


Subject to Change

by captain_americano



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Babysitting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Nanny, Angst, Babysitting, Castiel's parents aren't worthy of names/characters in this fic, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minor Character Death, Nicknames, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sass, Slight Age Difference, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, and castiel is a big jerk face, at first, dean is a terrible nanny, manny!au, nanny!au, no seriously its glacial, pop culture references, unprofessional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-20 12:04:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 46,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2428061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_americano/pseuds/captain_americano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since Castiel Novak is seventeen-and-a-half years old and his nanny is leaving to start her own family, he figures he sure as hell doesn't need a replacement nanny. His parents tend to agree; he doesn't need a nanny. He needs a 'manny'.<br/>Enter Dean Winchester.</p><p>*NOTE* Now Complete AND with art!!! :~)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Change of Caregiver

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who's back. Back again. Mollie's ba-you get the idea.
> 
> I didn't like completing a big work and then posting it bit-by-bit last time, so this time I'm posting as I write, which leaves a lot of room for change and improvement based on the feedback I get. I promise that this one isn't going to end up like my HS AU-sitting there incomplete for the rest of eternity. I have the general plot outline for this fic, so it won't go unfinished! I have no word count goal in mind, though, so be wary of that.
> 
> In CH4 there is a brief scene with non graphic details of sexual assault, just in case you would like to skip that part. (Not between main pairing)
> 
> Mm, and I bumped it up to Mature because of the increasingly frequent adult themes, drinking, swearing, etc, etc. Sorry if anyone got offended reading it while it was G.
> 
> Without further ado... Enjoy!

Castiel Novak stared glumly out of the grimy cab window, watching the tall buildings and hurried people pass by. Despite the fact that he was seventeen and honest-to-god did not need a nanny, he couldn't help the small sense of bitter disappointment that today was Anna's last day.

Anna Milton, the pretty, sweet redhead had been Castiel's nanny since he was nine. She was twenty-one at the time, and in the passing eight years she had gone on to be engaged and then married, and now she had a round, swollen belly and was expecting twins in a months' time.

Castiel was pleased for her; she was starting her own family, and from the way she'd taken care of him she was going to be an excellent mother. He knew he would miss her terribly, though.

"What'cha thinkin' about, Castiel?" Anna asked quietly from the other side of the taxi, her hand lightly massaging her baby bump.

"You," he replied honestly, turning his serene, blue gaze to her, "I'm going to miss you, Anna-Banana."

Anna smiled at old the nickname and reached across the bench seat to take Castiel's hand in her own. "I don't think you really will," she smiled, her eyes glinting with mischief. "You're a young man who doesn't need a chaperone killing his buzz all the time! You remember how to make spaghetti bolognese, right? And I did teach you to make pie, too, didn't I? You'll be just fine without me, Kitty-Cas."

"I know, I know," Castiel chuckled, blushing at Anna's nickname for him, "But still… You've been a pretty huge part of my life and, well, I love you Anna."

"Oh, come on, Cassie! Don't get all sentimental and weepy on me now, we have a couple of hours together, yet," Anna beamed, releasing Castiel's hand and opening her handbag, pulling out a loaf of bread, "starting at the duck pond!"

"What kind of seventeen year old boy likes to feed ducks?" Castiel muttered self-critically, smiling nevertheless. Anna truly did know him too well.

"The respectable kind," Anna said firmly as the cab pulled up outside of the park. Castiel jumped out while Anna paid the fare on the card Mrs Novak had given her for such uses.

"Promise to name one of your babies after me?" Castiel said, only slightly jokingly as Anna joined him in the cool September air.

"How about a middle name?" Anna suggested, compromisingly. "Castiel is a pretty weird name."

"Too right," Castiel muttered, walking alongside Anna in the direction of the pond. "You're gonna be the best mother," Castiel sighed wistfully, "way better than mine."

"Hey, now," Anna chided, putting a gentle hand on Castiel's chest to stop him from walking, "your mother does what she can, and she loves you very much."

Castiel schooled his features and nodded, "Yeah, I guess I know that."

"Good," Anna nodded, allowing them to continue walking.

"Is Michael as calm as you about the due date rapidly approaching?" Castiel asked after a silent pause.

"He's really excited," Anna smiled fondly, "he keeps rearranging the nursery, changing the batteries in the baby monitors, and I think he's bought enough diapers to last until the kids are three!"

Castiel laughed, remembering Michael's beaming face during the baby-shower. When Anna had first announced her pregnancy, Castiel had wondered if Michael, the seemingly overgrown child, would be ready to have kids of his own, but Castiel had seen him take responsibility on countless occasions, and Anna held the strongest faith in him, and if Castiel trusted one other person's judgement, it was Anna.

There weren't any cute ducklings paddling determinedly behind their mothers at this time of year, but Castiel appreciated the fully grown ducks, too. From the moment he had tossed the first chunk of bread, four or five ducks turned into thirty-odd, flying in and waddling over from hiding spots he hadn't even noticed.

He tossed some of the bread on the ground, and even threw a couple of chunks into the water, watching the koi flash up to the surface to snatch the treat. Castiel even allowed Anna to break up some of the slices of bread and suggested that once her children were old enough, she should bring them here.

"You're right, though," Castiel said suddenly, as they were walking the short distance from the park to the. Novak's luxurious, multi-leveled apartment.

"Hm? About what?"

"Well," Castiel hesitated, "while I will miss you -- and don't get me wrong, I definitely will… It'll be nice to be a little bit independent for once in my life." Castiel decided not to say anymore, the risk of hurting Anna's feelings too high, but from the smile she was giving him; she knew what he was thinking and fully agreed with him.

"You're quite unlike any other seventeen year old boy I've met," Anna said, a little ruefully, "so polite and proper."

"I wouldn't be this way if it weren't for an awesome nanny showing me the ropes," Castiel replied darkly, knowing full well that if his parents hadn't hired a nanny, they would've paid him the same amount of attention as they did now: next to none.

"So, you've been less than six months away from coming of age for a whole week now… Do you feel different?" Anna asked, segueing nicely. Castiel rolled his eyes at her lack of subtly, but humored her.

"Sure," he replied, "it's like my eyes have been opened up to a whole new world."

Anna snickered, and smiled politely at the doorman who opened the glass paneled door to reveal the cool, marble lobby. No matter how softly Castiel tried to walk, his footsteps would always echo too loudly off the shades-of-gray marble.

Anna and Castiel took the elevator up to the very top of the building, even though the top three floors all belonged to the Novak's. After some solid, flawless logic, Castiel had convinced his parents to give the very top floor to him; it wasn't like they were ever home long enough to appreciate it.

He walked over to his four poster king sized bed and flopped onto his back, staring at the fabric canopy above his head. He felt Anna sit on the large mattress, somewhere to his left.

"I better be going, soon. I think your parents said they'd drop by to see me off," Anna said softly.

"Yeah," Castiel snorted, "Right. That'd be the day."

"Castiel," Anna said warningly.

"Sorry," he muttered. He didn't know why Anna stood up for his parents so much. It's not like they were ever particularly nice or accommodating of her. Sure, once Castiel turned thirteen they'd let Anna drop back her care from full time so that she could move in with Michael instead of living at the Novak's, but that had benefitted them more than Anna, anyway, "I still think your cheque will be in the mail."

"We'll see. If they're not here by six, I'll cook you one last meal and be on my way, alright, Kitty-Cas?" She leant over and ruffled his hair. Castiel involuntarily giggled and swatted her away. "There's my favorite smile," Anna beamed, "Go get started on your homework, alright?"

* * *

He wasn't going to cry. Castiel Novak, seventeen year old boy, was not going to cry.

"Don't you dare cry," Anna broke through his inner mantra, pulling him into a tight hug. "You know you can't cry in front of a pregnant lady."

Much to no one's surprise, Castiel's parents hadn't shown up, so here he was, seeing off his favorite person in the world, for the last time. He was too scared to open his mouth lest he began crying.

"You better come and visit my babies, you hear me?" Anna commanded, her voice shaking slightly. "And you'll come over for Thanksgiving, and Christmas too, alright?"

"Anna," Castiel choked, "You're starting a new family now. I can't impede on your new life like that. You're starting a new chapter. One without me."

Anna held Castiel tighter. "You're never not going to be in my life, you great big idiot!" She chastised before pulling back and placing a kiss on his forehead. "You're never going to impede, because you're always welcome. Now I gotta go, because I can see the tears building up behind those baby blues, okay? I love you Kitty-Cas."

"I love you too, Anna-Banana," Castiel whispered, giving Anna the best smile he could manage.

"Goodbye for now, not forever," Anna patted his cheek lightly before pressing the down button for the elevator. They waited in silence, and all too soon Anna was stepping into the elevator, and Castiel was left standing alone in the monstrous apartment.

He was always lonely after Anna left for the day, even on the odd occasion when his parents were home, but tonight… Tonight he was lonelier than ever. He tapped on the electronic screen of his wall-computer next to the elevator, selecting some music to fill the silence. Instead of making a decision, something he was bad at, a song he barely knew spilled through the speakers located in every corner of the apartment. He considered isolating the music to his level, but he knew it wouldn't matter. He was going to be alone for a very long time.

He returned to his bed, this time lying on his side to look out of his glass wall to the city skyline. The sky was mostly dark, hints of light blues and greens on the horizon, while only the brightest stars were twinkling through the black sheet up high. No more would appear, the city itself was too bright to allow stars to shine.

Castiel was wondering if it was too early to sleep when the house phone interrupted the music, the obnoxious ringing blaring through the speakers. He briefly considered ignoring it, but if it were either if his parents, he knew he'd be given a world of grief, if he ever saw them again. He picked up the phone on his bedside table and pushed the 'answer' button.

"Novak residence, Castiel speaking," he stated in a bored tone.

"Castiel, darling," Mrs Novak began. Castiel knew by now that 'darling' wasn't a term of endearment for him, his mother called just about everyone that; it was easier than remembering names. "Why are you answering the phone? Has Annie left already?"

"After nine years, mother, one would hope you would know her name to be Anna," Castiel said flatly.

"Oh, please, Castiel, no one has time for your sarcasm. I called to tell you that I shall be home in five minutes and I wish to speak to you before I leave to meet your father at the airport for our trip to Australia."

"Of course, mother, I'll see you then," Castiel rolled his eyes and disconnected the call. He rolled off his bed and turned off the music and headed down to the main lounge room to wait for his mother, wondering what could possibly be so important for her to take time out of her busy, busy schedule to talk to him.

As it turned out, he didn't even have to wait the five minutes to find out.

"Ah, Castiel, let me look at you," his mother placed her hands on his cheeks and tilted his face side to side, up and down, the second she stepped out of the elevator, eyeing him critically. "You need a shave, my boy, did Anna never teach you about personal hygiene?"

"Anna--" Castiel began, outraged, but his mother cut him off.

"Never mind her. I'm quite relieved she's gone. I rather think it's time we invested in new help, someone who could relate to you more," Mrs Novak let go of her son to pull a folder out of her bag.

"Anna was perfectly relatable, more than some people," Castiel said pointedly, but his mother just ignored him in favor of flicking through her folder. "And I don't need another nanny, I'm seventeen for Christ's sake!"

"No," his mother agreed, "you don't need a new nanny. You need a manny. A young man, one not much older than yourself who knows what sort of things you're going through at the moment, but still mature enough to take care of you. I've set a trial period with one Mr Dean Winchester; here," Mrs Novak handed her son the folder, apparently a collection of information on Dean including his résumé and a background check. "He'll be meeting you at your school tomorrow at four o'clock sharp."

"Mother," Castiel said hotly. "I do not need a 'manny'! And I certainly don't need a, _quote,_ replacement for Anna! No one can replace Anna!"

"Oh, come, now, boy, you're only seventeen. Of course you need someone to care for you. I can't believe I kept on to Anna for so long, I should've replaced her with a manny the second you hit puberty, I suppose I'm just too sentimental," Mrs Novak said absently, checking her phone, while Castiel scoffed disbelievingly. "I've got to head off, now, Castiel, the meter is running in the cab and your father is waiting for me. Good luck with Dean, kisses!" She said, instead of actually kissing her son, before retreating to the elevator and leaving.

Castiel tossed the folder angrily on the white leather lounge and stormed up the floating staircase to his bedroom. _Freakin' manny,_ he thought bitterly. _No one can replace Anna!_

He turned the music back on before stripping and throwing his clothes in the hamper and climbing into his digital mixer shower that took up one entire side of his ensuite. He set the shower to steam and sat down on the wooden bench glaring at the rapidly fogging glass. _Freakin' manny._


	2. A Change of Responsibility

Dean Winchester had been totally lost once his younger brother Sam had moved across the country for college. Don't get him wrong, he was damn happy for Sam and proud of the kid, too, but he had no clue what to do with himself.

His whole life it had been: take care of Sammy, work for Sammy, pay the bills for Sammy, cook for Sammy. Now his apartment felt too big, he had nothing to do and cooking for one person wasn't even worth the effort.

The 'nothing to do' part was the most depressing of all. He'd somehow managed to get laid off from his part time work at the mechanics, just before Sam had left, so in those last couple of weeks, he'd gone full mother hen.

Then, Sam was gone and Dean had nothing to do.

Sam suggested that Dean find work as a male nanny, since Dean always took such care of him. Dean had rolled his eyes and grumbled that Sam was his _responsibility_ and he didn't want to look after the snot-nosed offspring of some snooty rich bitch. Sam had pulled an epic bitchface and told Dean to learn to take a compliment.

Dean had been genuine about not wanting to be a manny, though, but as days dragged into weeks of him moping around the apartment, unable to find a decent job that paid well, he looked in the classifieds.

He found an ad for a seventeen year old boy with a monster pay cheque, more per week than he'd been getting per month at the garage, and called the mother who'd posted the ad.

Mrs Novak was brusque over the phone, and only slightly less so in person. She'd immediately agreed to give Dean a trial period with her kid, Castiel, and set the initial meeting for a week later. She hadn't had time to tell Dean of his duties, or anything about her son, and she left with a, "Castiel will tell you what you need to know, he's such a good boy."

Dean had sincerely doubted whether this would be the case, as he was unsure if Mrs Novak had ever spent any quality time with her boy, but he nodded politely and shook her hand.

So there Dean was, on the 26th of September, outside the biggest, most pretentious school he'd ever seen, waiting to pick up a kid he didn't know from a bar of soap, and appreciating the other nannies and au pairs.

"You must be Castiel's new nanny, right?" A pretty woman with dark hair and eyes smiled at him.

"I prefer manny," Dean smirked, winking at the lady. "Dean Winchester."

"Lisa," she smiled shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I nanny for Ben, he's a good kid. Anna was nice, Castiel's previous nanny. You're more my type though," Lisa eyed Dean up and down.

"Can you, uh, point out Castiel when he comes out? Haven't had the pleasure yet," Dean said to Lisa.

"Sure," she grinned. "His parents can be a bit funny like that, but Anna thought the world of _him."_

Dean just nodded and watched as the heavy wooden doors swung open, revealing a rush of kids aged fourteen to eighteen.

"That's him there," Lisa nodded to a stoic kid with wild raven hair and intense blue eyes. Castiel walked down the steps slowly, peering around, and Dean went up to greet him.

"Hey, Castiel, I'm Dean!" Dean grinned, holding out his hand. Castiel glared at the hand and then up at Dean.

"Great," Castiel snarked, "let's get out of here."

"Hey, kid, when someone offers you a hand, you shake it. It's called _manners,"_   Dean growled as he followed Castiel out of the crowded courtyard. Castiel ignored him in favor of hailing a cab.

A yellow taxi pulled to the curb in front of them, and Castiel slid in, slamming the door in Dean's face.

Dean narrowed his eyes at the kid and yanked the door open, pushing Castiel across to the other side of the cab. "What the hell is your problem, kid?" Dean demanded after Castiel gave his address to the driver.

"I'm seventeen! I don't need a damn babysitter,"Castiel said snippily.

"Your parents seem to disagree," Dean replied darkly, staring at the boy, "that's why they hired me, so it looks like you're stuck with me."

"Whatever," Castiel mumbled furiously, glaring out the window.

Dean had forgotten, or at least blocked out, what Sam was like at this age. It was damn unpleasant, just like Castiel was now. They spent the ride in a heavy silence, and when the car pulled up outside a fancy building, Castiel handed the driver a card to pay for.

"I'll get it, you don't have to pay for it," Dean said quietly, reaching for his own wallet. Castiel gave him a dirty look and rolled his eyes.

"It's not _my_ money, it's my parents. This was the card they gave Anna, you know Anna? The best damn nanny in the world? The one _you_ replaced?" Dean could honestly say he hadn't been on the receiving end of such a hateful glare since his father was alive, but now wasn't the time to dwell on that.

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and followed Castiel out of the car and up the stairs leading to the large building. There was a freakin' doorman and all!

Dean couldn't help gaping around the classy lobby, it was dark but stylish and bigger than his entire apartment. He followed Castiel into the lift -- again, bigger, probably, than his bedroom, and stayed silent until they reached Castiel's floor.

Dean followed Castiel out of the elevator and _holy luxury Batman!_ Dean had seen places like this on television and in magazines and, well, in porn, but he couldn't believe people actually lived like this! He let out a low whistle, for which Castiel gave him another dirty look.

"Okay, look, kid--"

 _"Castiel,"_ he snarled.

"Castiel," Dean agreed placatingly. "I know you seem to have your heart set on hating me, but you're stuck with me at least until your parents get back from Australia, alright? You why don't you sack up, treat me like a human instead of a piece of garbage, and give me the low down because your mom kinda skipped the important stuff."

Castiel held his glare for another minute, before his shoulders dropped and he sighed.

"Anna was usually here until seven or eight. She would pick me up from school, make sure I'd do my home work, cook, clean, including laundry and vacuuming and then she'd be back by seven the next morning for breakfast and to escort me to school," Castiel said shortly.

"Okay," Dean said, more to himself than Castiel. "I can work with that. Do your homework, Cas!"

"First things first," Castiel narrowed his eyes threateningly at Dean. "It's 'Castiel.' You don't get to call me Cas. Not now, not ever. Secondly, you don't get to order me around. You're not my boss, you're my sitter. _I'm your boss."_

"Actually, your mother is my boss, and she told me to take care of you," Dean argued.

"News flash," Castiel snarked. "My mother isn't around, and she isn't gonna be for a while, so I make the rules."

"News flash," Dean mimicked. "I'm older than you and I was given a job to do so I'm damn well gonna do it. Do your homework."

"Fine," Castiel snapped. "Get the hell out of my bedroom."

"No shit," Dean said, his anger replaced with awe, "This is _your_ bedroom?"

"What gave it away?" Castiel said icily. "The fact that I'm standing in it and it has a bed?"

"You're a real piece of work, you know that, kid?"

"Get out!" Castiel yelled, throwing one of the pillows off his bed at Dean angrily. Dean screwed up his face and headed down the staircase to explore the rest of the Novak's home.

Dean noticed funny little screens next to every single damn doorway and cautiously tapped the one at the bottom of the staircase. It immediately lit up with a bunch of functions. Dean tapped the bar that read 'intercom' and hesitantly spoke, feeling like an idiot.

"Hello?" The word echoed around the apartment, coming from tiny speakers he didn't notice before.

"You are a child," Castiel's voice came through the speakers.

"No, this is so cool, Cas!" He said excitedly.

"I thought you wanted me to do my homework. I can't exactly do that with your dulcet tones ringing thought the house."

"Lighten up Cas," Dean smirked and turned the intercom off, exploring the rest of the functions. Lighting, music, power, temperature… It damn near had everything! Dean wondered if Mr Novak was secretly Tony Stark.

Dean continued to explore that level, the lounge room had plush carpet and soft leather lounges pointed towards a _three hundred inch flat screen._ Dean nearly wet himself in anticipation of watching _Doctor Sexy MD_ on that television. The kitchen was nice and big with an island; if he really was expected to cook for Castiel he'd be in his element there. There was a laundry and a balcony, as well as a 'small' bedroom with an ensuite,

Dean wandered back into the kitchen and hit the intercom. "Hey, Cas, what do you want for dinner?"

"Beef ragout, cheese soufflé, and pie and pudding en flambé," Castiel snapped.

"Pizza it is," Dean rolled his eyes. "Does this thing make calls?"

Castiel must have decided to ignore him because he got no reply, but luckily he spotted a telephone on the outer kitchen bench. He called his favorite pizza place and, after making sure they delivered to this part of town, ordered a meat lovers and a vegetarian. The whiny bitch upstairs had the best of both worlds and if he complained, well, Dean would tell him to get fucked.

An hour and a half later, Castiel had wandered down stairs, out of his pretentious school uniform -- seriously, tie and blazer-pretentious -- and was dressed in a pair of skinny black jeans and an _Abbey Road_ shirt.

"Fan of _The Beatles,_ huh?" Dean tried for conversation. His longevity at this high paying job would diminish pretty quick if the kid genuinely hated him.

"Yeah," Castiel replied. "Don't suppose you'd know good music if it slapped you up the side of the head."

"Don't get me wrong, The Beatles are damn fine. My mom used to sing me _Hey Jude_ instead'a lullabies--"

"How nice," Castiel cut in coldly.

"Before she died in a fire when I was four," Dean finished, fixing Castiel with an even glare. Castiel at least had the courtesy to look slightly ashamed.

"Sorry."

"Yeah, well, I figure you didn't have the picture perfect upbringing either," Dean responded fairly, knowing despite the fancy apartment; the string of nannies and parentless nights did not a stable childhood make. "Anyway, like I was saying, _The Beatles_ are great and all, but I prefer me some _Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, Metallica…"_

 _"Zep?"_ Castiel looked up, his face still impassive but his eyes had an interested gleam. "Favorite song?"

 _"Traveling Riverside Blues_ or _Ramble On,"_ Dean smirked as Castiel nodded appreciatively.

"Mm, anything with a _Lord of the Rings_ reference is cool with me," Castiel said, his guard slightly lowered. Dean was hesitant to say anything else lest he piss the kid off again.

"I, uh, ordered a meat lovers and a vegetarian because I didn't know what you'd like," he said carefully, "should be here pretty soon, it's been over an hour."

"Yeah, I know," Castiel smirked. "You forgot to turn the intercom off."

"Ah, shit," Dean groaned, mentally kicking himself. "Whatever. Did you get your homework done?"

"Yeah," Castiel replied.

"Okay, good. Do you, uh, I dunno, wanna watch TV or something?" Dean asked.

Castiel snorted, "Have you ever done anything like this before, ever? You're terrible!"

"Actually," Dean glared at Castiel, really starting to get annoyed, "I've raised my brother since he was in diapers. Now he's at college. So, yeah, I guess you could say I've done something like this before."

Castiel didn't look ashamed or guilty this time, he just cocked his head and peered curiously at Dean. Dean shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny, wondering what was going through the teen's head, when the elevator dinged and the pizza guy stepped out.

"Uh, meat lovers and vege?" He asked, glancing between the two guys that were having an intense stare-off.

"Yeah," Castiel said, looking away from Dean and pulling his card from his front pocket and handing it over. Dean took the two pizza boxes and put them on the kitchen counter, before digging through the numerous cupboards for plates. Dean found them in a high corner cupboard as the elevator dinged, leaving him alone with Castiel once more.


	3. A Change of Opinion

Castiel could not believe the _nerve_ of this guy! He shows up, nothing but a _replacement_ for Anna, and starts bossing him around like he's been around Cas his whole life? That is _not_ okay!

Castiel silently fumed as he completed his homework -- no point in taking his anger at Dean out on his grades.

And when Castiel had gotten out of school, Dean wasn't even paying attention to him, he was talking to that slut-bag Lisa! Everyone totally knew she was screwing around with Ben's father, and Crowley's father, and… Well, point made. And there Dean was, all spiky brown hair and crinkly eyes talking to Lisa with a big smile on his face.

Castiel finished his homework and changed into more comfortable clothing; his had to be the _only_ school in America to enforce a uniform upon their students!

He bitterly wondered how Anna was getting along this afternoon, the first of many without Castiel.

Castiel headed downstairs in the hope of the pizza he had heard Dean ordering, but Dean just brought up music and his mother dying. And yeah, okay, Castiel had felt like a complete jerk at that, but at least Dean had experienced _some_ nice memories with his mother!

After the pizza finally arrived, Dean handed him a plate and loaded up his own.

"So, you still have your heart set on hating me?" Dean asked conversationally as Castiel carefully took a slice of vege, half of the toppings sliding off.

"Yep," Castiel answered casually, but he could already feel his resilience slipping. Dean was pretty damn likable, what with his knowledge of good music and good pizza.

"Okay, well, it's a Friday night, so what if we take this pizza to the lounge room and marathon _Lord of the Rings?_ I assume, from your comment earlier that you like Tolkien?" Dean asked. Castiel scrunched up his face and reminded himself that Dean replaced Anna.

"Not supposed to eat in the lounge room, especially on that damn lounge," Castiel replied.

"Oh, live a little," Dean retorted, brushing past Castiel.

"That couch cost more than a car, if you get pizza on it," Castiel angrily left the threat hanging, annoyed that Dean was being so immature.

"Come on, Cas, take a seat!" Dean patted the lounge next to him. "How does this thing even work? Is there a remote or is it voice command?"

"Child!" Castiel huffed, putting his plate on the coffee table _next to Dean's feet!_ "Get your damn dirty feet down! God! What is wrong with you? You’re a goddamned Neanderthal!"

Castiel opened the large cabinet along the wall behind the lounge Dean was sprawled across and put _Fellowship_ in the DVD player. He picked up the universal remote and turned the television on, the giant screen blinding.

"This is so freakin' cool!" Dean chuckled, chomping on his pizza. Castiel rolled his eyes and sat himself on the opposite end of the lounge to Dean, placing his plate carefully on his lap before meticulously attacking his food.

About half of the movie passed in silence before Castiel decided to speak his mind.

"Dean, it's nine-thirty, what the hell are you still doing here?" He wasn't sure if he meant it to sound as rude as it did, but he went with it anyway. Dean turned to frown at him.

"I'm your manny. I'm meant to be here?" He posed it as a question, like he was truly unsure of himself.

Castiel groaned in frustration, "No! You're, what, twenty-four? Twenty five? You're meant to be out with your friends! You live in the greatest city in the world, you shouldn't be watching _Lord of the Rings_ at nine-thirty on a Friday night with some seventeen year old!"

"Okay, first off, I'm only twenty-three, thank you very much. And I'd much prefer to be here with you," Dean said firmly.

"Creepy."

"If you say so. I just don't think it's right for a seventeen year old to be spending the night alone all the time. Your parents should'a kept Anna around twenty-four/seven, if they truly cared about you," Dean shrugged.

"Do you hear these words as they leave your mouth? Because that was still pretty creepy. As for the second part, that's a big damn 'if' right there," Castiel sighed.

Dean threw his hands in the air in frustration. "Damn it Cas! I'm not being creepy! I'm just trying to keep you safe, alright? I would never, ever, have left Sam alone for a whole night."

Castiel refrained from commenting on his doubt that Dean and his brother lived in quite as nice an area with such a low crime rate. He didn't, however, hold his tongue altogether. "Well, the fact is that I've been left alone ninety percent of nights since I was thirteen, so if you've got somewhere else to be -- and for your sake I sincerely hope you do -- get going, Dean."

"Nope," Dean replied, popping his lips on the 'p' and staring back at the television. Castiel huffed in annoyance and decided to pick his battles.

"Well, I'm sure you've explored enough of the apartment to know where the guest room is. It's yours, if you insist on staying--"

"I do."

"Very well," Castiel sighed. 

Blessedly, the rest of the movie passed in silence. As the credits rolled, however, Dean grabbed the remote and hit mute.

"Look, Cas, I know we sorta got off on the wrong foot--"

"Oh, _lord!"_

"Can you, like, not be a dick for five minutes?" Dean begged. Castiel rolled his eyes but nodded, allowing Dean to continue. Dean took a deep breath and powered on, "I know that Anna was with you for a long time, and I respect that you miss her and I'll never live up to her and all that crap, okay? But I'm damn well gonna try.

"You're a good kid. You're sassy as all fuck, but I kinda am too, and I think we could get along really well as long as you pull your head outta your ass, alright? So, can you just… Just _try_ not to hate me? 'Cause I may not be the best guy in the world, but so far I've never done wrong by you, right?" Castiel looked at Dean for a moment and decided he was finished.

"If it means that much to you," Castiel shrugged nonchalantly, but Dean still smiled.

"Great! You wanna watch _Two Towers,_ then?"

"I'm actually pretty tired, I'm just gonna shower and go to bed, alright?" Castiel said as politely as he could manage. 

"Oh," Dean sounded and even looked a little disappointed. "Yeah, no, that's cool. Any requests for breakfast?"

"Oh, um," Castiel hesitated. "We could… We could go out? I've got my parents' card, after all."

"Sure," Dean gave him an easy smile. "Don't, uh, don't hesitate to wake me if you need anything, alright Cas?"

Castiel bristled; even after specifically telling Dean to call him Castiel, the infuriating man still called him Cas.

"Sure, Dean," he smiled sweetly, vowing to blast _One Direction_ through the speakers the following morning to wake Dean.

Castiel jogged up the stairs to his bedroom and stripped, hearing the sound of the beginning of _Two Towers_ drift up to his bedroom. He shook his head and closed his bathroom door, isolating his music to his bathroom for his shower.

He put a random playlist on shuffle, something of his mother's, he assumed as a sultry female voice floated through the air.

Castiel set the shower to low pressure at 130F, standing awkwardly, naked, outside of the glass until he could see the steam coming from the water. He checked the temperature with his fingers -- _perfect_ \-- and hopped under the gentle spray, letting the scalding water dance over his skin and hair.

He squeezed some soap onto his palm and lathered himself, the familiar musky scent filling his senses.

As for most seventeen year old boys, it didn't take long for him to become relaxed to the point of arousal, and after all the careful touches of his hands cleaning his body, he rinsed off the soap and felt his cock twitch.

A new song was playing, but it was easy to tune out the words. He wrapped his hand around his dick, the water from the shower slicking the way. Castiel closed his eyes as he gently started jerking, before speeding up and not even bothering to build up a fantasy.

He was coming in white stripes against the shower wall within minutes, a strangled cry on his lips and a flash of green in his mind's eye.

The green, so pretty, so familiar, but something he couldn't place and something he sure as hell couldn't relate to a goddamn orgasm.

Castiel wrapped his towel around himself and turned the shower off. He used the wall-computer to turn off the music and black out his glass wall and dried himself off before slipping into his boxers and sweatpants, reusing the _Abbey Road_ shirt to sleep in. He shut the lights out and climbed into his bed, wondering what significance the green had.

* * *

Castiel woke the next morning and, as with every morning, thanked his lucky stars that his parents were rich and could afford top-notch black-out capabilities. He glanced at his clock and say that it was nine-fifty am, but his room was as dark as it would be in the pm.

Castiel lay in bed for a while, before he remembered his ploy to piss Dean off. He silently slid out of bed and padded down the stairs, poking his head into Dean's bedroom.

He could see a lump under the covers and he could hear snoring, so he huffed out a laughed and fiddled with the wall-computer until --

_You're insecure, don't know what for, you're turning heads when you walk through the do-o-or!_

It was freakin' loud, and a terrible song, but Castiel couldn't help laughing as Dean literally jumped out of bed and poised to attack. Castiel's laughter was cut short as he noticed a lack of clothing on his guardian.

Dean obviously hadn't figured out the black-out feature of the windows in his bedroom because the room was bathed in light and there wasn't an inch of uncovered flesh that Castiel couldn't see.

Dean glared at Castiel and yanked the sheet off the bed, wrapping it around his waist as he walked over to turn off the music.

"Like something you see, Cas?" Dean teased as Castiel gaped at him. Castiel snapped his mouth shut and squared his shoulders.

"You slept naked in my guest room?" He demanded in a hiss, furious indignation positively radiating from him.

"Chill out, dude, I'm the one that does the washing, remember?" Dean shrugged, leaning casually against the door frame.

_"You slept naked in my guest room."_

"Yeah, we established that," Dean said patiently.

"You, _paid_ primary caregiver of an _underage_ boy, slept _naked_ in the house of said underage boy, after telling the underage boy that he could wake you at any stage throughout the night if need be?" Castiel asked, trying to wrap his head around the situation, and trying to focus on anything other than the vee of Dean's hips and his abs, which were pretty damn distracting in the sense that Castiel was totally jealous. But maybe if he weren't so lazy, he could develop some of his own.

"Well, when you put it like that," Dean rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Castiel glared up at Dean and holy green. "Let's, um, let's not tell your mom about this one, yeah?" Dean pleaded. "I swear I wasn't, like, trying to come onto you or anything, I just didn't… I didn't think it through, alright? I always sleep naked at home and I didn't have any bed clothes and--"

To be honest, Castiel was a little caught up on the 'always sleeps naked at home', but he shook his head carefully. "I won't tell my mother, Dean, it's… Whatever." Castiel turned to leave the room, but glanced back over his shoulder. "We're leaving for breakfast in fifteen."

"S-sure, Cas," Castiel watched as Dean slapped a friendly smile on his face.

Well. That was awkward. Castiel went back to his bedroom to dress and brush his teeth -- he'd long since given up on trying to tame his hair. He met Dean on the middle level next the the elevator.

"So, what's downstairs?" Dean asked while they waited for the elevator, clearing ignoring what happened earlier.

"My parent's quarters," Castiel scoffed. "They used to be where I am now, and I used to be in the room you stayed in. They weren't home enough to deserve the beautiful room upstairs, though, so I commandeered it."

"That's a fancy word for this time of day," Dean said through a yawn as the elevator dinged and they stepped in.

"It means--"

"I know what it means, Cas," Dean rolled his eyes.

"Anyway," Castiel huffed, "My parents' bedroom is downstairs, their study, and another bathroom and living area."

"God, what is your family? Is Novak an Italian name? Are your parents the mafia?" Dean suddenly looked worried as thought this were a plausible concern.

"Czech, Polish, Slovak, Slovene, Jewish; derived from the Slavic word _'novy'_ meaning new, originally a nickname for someone who was new to a village. Novák is the Hungarian variant. No Italian roots," Castiel snipped.

"Dude," Dean said, clearly impressed, "Either you got the smarts from your parents, and that's why they're rich, or they're rich for some other reason and can afford to buy you the smarts."

"That," Castiel said, "was quite possibly the stupidest thing I've ever heard. _'Buy you the smarts,'"_ he scoffed.

"Couldn't afford the smarts for me," Dean continued, now obviously making fun of Cas. "Bought the smarts for Sammy, though."

They elevator arrived at the lobby and they trekked out into the brisk Fall air.

"Where is Sam receiving the smarts?" Castiel asked as he lead Dean down the street to his favorite café.

"He's over at Stanford," Dean sighed.

"Wow," even Castiel could admit that was impressive. "Doing?"

"Bit'a this and a bit'a that. Law, mostly. He plans to have sat his LSAT by twenty-two. I know the kid'll get where he wants to go. Not just buyin' him the smarts, he's a natural," Dean smiled fondly. Castiel peered at Dean as he talked about his brother, with pride and love. Castiel wondered if anyone in his life would ever talk about him that way. "What about you? What's the big plan for when you leave school?"

"Gotta worry 'bout surviving high school before I get to what I'm gonna do once I leave," Castiel said sardonically.

"Hey, Cas, good kid like you ain't gotta worry about surviving. You'll do just fine," Dean promised gruffly. Castiel rolled his eyes, how the hell would Dean know? "You keep rollin' your eyes at me and you're gonna go blind real soon, kid."

"You know, it's really demeaning when you call me 'kid,'" Castiel snapped, turning abruptly into the café, noticing Dean almost walking off before realizing Castiel wasn't beside him.

"Sorry, _your highness,"_ Dean smirked.

 _"Much_ better," Castiel smiled mockingly.

Castiel went straight for the counter and ordered a black coffee and an everything bagel, while Dean ordered a milkshake and a slice of cherry pie.

"You know," Dean said, gesturing Castiel's coffee as the waitress brought their drinks out. "That shit'll stunt your growth."

"You know," Castiel retorted, glancing at the pie the waitress set in front of Dean moments later. "That shit'll stunt your lifespan."

"Okay, let's get somethin' straight, Cas. Pie is not shit, and it's worth knockin' a few years off the clock, you hear?" Dean speared the tip of his pie pointedly and Castiel flushed as he let out a lascivious moan. "Cherry pie is always a risk, but damn that's a good'un."

Castiel ignored Dean as he picked apart his bagel, and when he was done promptly left to settle the bill.

"Are you planning on staying with me the whole time my parents are gone?" Castiel asked as he impatiently waited for Dean to finish savoring his pie and milkshake.

"Sure am," Dean nodded slowly. Castiel pressed his hand to his forehead, _perfect_. "You alright Cas? Feeling okay?"

"I'm _fine,"_ he grumbled. "If that truly is the case we should probably swing by your place so that we don't have any repeat performances."

"Hey, I saw you checkin' me out," Dean grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. Castiel felt his face warp into something ugly.

"Seventeen, Dean. I'm seventeen," he felt the need to remind the older man. "And apparently, you're my "responsible adult" so act your age, not your shoe size."

Dean snorted at that and Castiel rolled his eyes again. It was really becoming a reflex as opposed to a conscious effort.

"Leggo!" Dean said after he slurped the rest of his milkshake, and Castiel literally buried his face in his hands. What on earth had convinced his mother to hire Dean Winchester?

"I'm a size twelve by the way," Dean said as they wandered the streets, presumedly towards Dean's apartment.

"Beg par?"

"Shoe size. It's twelve. And you know what they say about big feet," Dean smirked.

"Do you _want_ to get arrested?" Castiel demanded, glancing around to see if anyone heard the man that was coming across as hitting on the underage boy.

"Get your mind outta the gutter, Cas! They say 'damn, boy, those some big shoes!'" Dean laughed at his own joke, which saved Cas from the burden of doing so. "Hey, do you… Is the trial period for you, your mother, or me?"

"Myself and you," Castiel replied watching the ground so he didn't fall. He always watched where he was stepping. It was a constant source of annoyance for his mother -- "Keep your head up, Castiel, and your back straight!" But Castiel hated walking like that. He needed to know where his foot was about to fall. He needed to pay attention, because if he didn't, he'd trip. This had been proven on countless occasions.

"Oh," Dean replied.

"What?"

"No, nothing. It makes sense." But that same, slightly disappointed tone from the previous night was back with fervor and it bothered Castiel.

"Spit it out, Dean," he said, somewhere between cross and caring.

"I just don't… If it's up to you, I don't really like my chances," he admitted and Castiel stopped walking. Was he really that much of a hardass? Was he really giving off a genuine hate vibe? Dean had stopped walking too and was watching him carefully.

Castiel swallowed thickly and wrinkled his nose before shaking his head. "Don't be so paranoid, Dean." He said firmly and kept walking, jerking his head to indicate Dean should do the same.

"So, should I give up my apartment or keep it in case we break up?" Dean teased.

"Shut up," Castiel mumbled.

"But seriously, do you thing we should postpone the housewarming party so it coincides with Halloween?"

"Shut it, Dean, don't make me change my mind," Castiel warned.

"I don't think you'll do that, I think you're pretty sold on me," Dean grinned, bouncing alongside Castiel.

"You're insufferable!" Castiel sighed, regretting his spur-of-the-moment decision already.

"How long are the 'rents Down Under?" Dean asked suddenly.

"'Til they decide to come home," Castiel shrugged.

"Must be nice," Dean muttered darkly.


	4. A Change of Scenery

Dean had to admit, he was a little nervous about letting Castiel see his apartment, what with the luxury suite the young boy lived in. Castiel, however, had just wandered curiously around Dean's dark apartment, picking up random books or magazines, looking at photos and smirking at Dean's DVD collection while Dean packed his duffle.

 _"Doctor Sexy MD,"_ Castiel wondered aloud and Dean snatched the box set from him and shoved it in his duffle.

"Yep," Dean said, not even bothering to be ashamed. "Can wait to see that babein' doctor on your HQ television."

"Nor can I," Castiel commented sarcastically. "We done?"

"Sure thing!" Dean grinned. "Let's get back to my new home!"

The walk back to Castiel's apartment hadn't been overly filled with conversation, but the talk did flow freely and the silence was not longer as tense, so Dean counted it as a win.

Dean hoped Mrs Novak wouldn't mind him staying with Castiel, but he figured that, unfortunately, she wouldn't really care.

"Hey, you don't, uh, you don't _really_ think I'm a creeper, right? You know I'd never try to hurt you or take advantage of you or whatever?" Dean asked Castiel as they rode the elevator up to the Novak's apartment.

Castiel glanced up at him curiously and cocked his head. "After this morning, do you really think you'd be anywhere but a jail cell I thought that?"

Dean felt his cheeks warm, but the kid had a point. "Yeah. Sorry 'bout that. Next time I'll remember where I am, and… Yeah."

Castiel smirked at him as the elevator came to a stop and let them out, immediately hearing the phone ringing. Castiel hurried over to answer it while Dean dumped his duffle in the room he was coming to think of as his.

"… No, he's not so bad," Castiel pulled a face at him as he re-entered the kitchen where Castiel was talking on the phone. "He's staying here… Yes permanently!... He worries about me, which is more than I can say about _others_ … Fine! Dean," Castiel held the phone out. "My mother wants to speak with you."

Dean felt his stomach drop. Was he about to get fired or lectured or what?

"H-hi Mrs Novak, how's Australia?"

 _"Fine, fine, it's spring here."_  

"How, erm… Lovely."

_"Castiel says that you would be more comfortable living in, is that correct?"_

"I suppose so, I was under the impression he spends a lot of nights alone," Dean cringed, finally hearing how that may sound weird. Apparently Mrs Novak didn't, thankfully.

_"Yes, he does. I worry about that boy. Well, he seems to be happy enough with you, and if you're willing, I'm happy to have you as a live-in. We'll of course have to renegotiate your pay, I'm obviously not paying you nearly enough to be on the job twenty-four/seven. When I get back, we'll discuss this further, alright Dean?"_

"Y-yes, ma'am, thank you ma'am!"

 _"Very well, goodbye Dean."_ Mrs Novak finished and hung up. 

Dean looked up at Castiel who was staring at him impassively.

"She hung up!"

"She does that," Castiel replied.

"But she didn't say goodbye to you!"

Castiel gave Dean an incredulous look and shrugged.

"Oh- _kay,_ then," Dean shook his head confusedly. "So what does fancy ass Castiel do on the weekend?"

Castiel looked faintly annoyed but decided to answer anyway, "Huh. I guess I don't really know. Read and watch movies?"

"Read and watch movies," Dean said doubtfully. "You don't go out with your little fancy ass friends and do high tea?"

"Do you have a rich persons complex?" Castiel cocked his head, peering at Dean in a way that made him feel like his soul was on display. He folded his arms in front of him and shifted. Guess it could be seen that way.

"No."

"Sure," Castiel rolled his eyes. "And I don't do _high tea,_ god! But… Well, there is this party tonight."

"Okay, a party," Dean said, urging for more details.

"It's at Crowley's, a couple of blocks over. His au pair, Bela was caught stealing so he's between nannies right now," Castiel explained.

"Wait, wait, so you're not the only seventeen year old with a nanny?" Dean scoffed. _"Rich people!"_

"Actually," Castiel glared, "He's got two younger sisters, Ruby and Meg, and they're generally the ones that need looking after."

Dean didn't bother voicing the fact that when he was seventeen he looked after himself, a kid and a drunk.

"Okay, so tell me more about the party. Is there gonna be pretty girls? Drinking? Drugs?"

Castiel screwed up his face in a way that told Dean everything he needed to know.

"Look, Dean, I gotta experience this stuff at some point in my life, right? And I know you don't know me very well, but maybe this is a chance for me to prove that I'm not just the kid you insist on calling me, but a responsible young adult. If I can attend this party and conduct myself with pride and dignity, don't you think that'll give you an excellent read on my character?" Castiel blinked up at Dean with those big blue eyes and he looked so hopeful on the verge of pathetic that Dean had to look away.

"I was once your age, and Sam was too. Don't think I don't know what you're tryin'a pull, kid," Dean huffed. "Would this be your first party?"

"Yes."

"Do you have someone you can trust to go with you?" Dean asked. Castiel looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I can hang out with Balthazar. He frequents this type of thing, I'm sure he'd know his way around a sticky situation," Castiel nodded confidently.

 _Balthazar;_ Dean thought, _rich people!_ "Okay, okay, fine. Just, you know the phone number for here, right? I'll be here all night, call if you need anything, okay? And your curfew is one. No, for your first party it's midnight. And make sure you have cash on you, alright? And maybe some pepper spray," Dean added as an afterthought.

"Yes, Dean," Castiel began snarkily, "I know my own phone number. Home by midnight, have cash and pepper spray. Got it."

"Don't mix your alcohol. Pick one poison and stick to it. And don't have too much of it; if it's your first time it won't be pretty," Dean winced as he remembered swiping some of his dad's whiskey when he was thirteen. No, not pretty. "And don't you fucking dare touch any drug stronger than an ibuprofen. And if someone offers you an ibuprofen you say no and you walk away from them. Do I need to buy you condoms?"

Castiel let out a burst of laughter and immediately apologized. "Sorry, I'm just imagining Anna saying all of that like she's had experience in all of those areas," he explained, a small smile on his face. "I don't anticipate needing condoms."

"Better safe than sorry," Dean shrugged, sincerely disbelieving that even this stick in the mud in front of him would, as a seventeen year old boy, pass up an opportunity for sex if it were to present itself. Dean wondered just how bad a nanny this made him. Maybe he should call one of the other nannies, or Anna and see what they thought. But he'd already told the kid he could go, and for once Castiel wasn't looking at him with utter contempt. "You screw this up and you're never leaving the house again, okay?"

"Okay," Castiel agreed.

"Okay," Dean nodded, "So I suppose I'm in charge of the grocery shopping, too?"

"Sounds about right," Castiel shrugged. Dean took a quick look through the fridge and cupboards to find a less than substantial amount of food.

"Okay, well, let's go to the store and get some stuff," Dean decided, glancing at the clock, _12:43._

"Can't I stay here?" Castiel whined, flopping down onto the lounge.

"Nope," Dean poked him. "I don't know what you like to eat, what you're allergic to, what beauty products you buy, etcetera, etcetera."

"Ugh!" Castiel groaned, rolling of the lounge and standing. "Fine."

"Hey, it's not exactly like I enjoy grocery shopping," Dean grumbled before muttering, "or your company."

"What was that?" Castiel asked loudly, peering at him.

"Nothing. Leggo!"

"You have got to _stop_ saying that, Dean. Even if you're saying it ironically, which may actually be worse."

"God, Cas, you are literally no fun," Dean sighed as they walked into the elevator. "So you said you read, what sort of books you enjoy?"

"I never said I read books," Castiel snapped, "I read unpublished works of fiction by independent authors online."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Dean said mockingly, "what sort of unpublished works of fiction by independent authors do you enjoy reading?"

"Clichéd crap that would make you slam the laptop shut at a glance," Castiel said dismissively.

"Yeah, because that's specific. Excuse me for trying to make conversation," Dean grumbled. "So where's the nearest grocery store?"

Shopping was exactly as uneventful as Dean had expected to be, but he got a decent laugh out of Castiel's blush when he'd bullied him into choosing a pack of condoms. The kid had gotten all flustered and embarrassed and just grabbed a box to throw into the cart. Dean had lost it when they were going through the register and they turned out to be glow in the dark. "Geez, kid, I figured you're a virgin, but I thought you would'a had at least some clue as to where you needed to put it!" Dean had snickered. Castiel glared at him with utter hate and hadn't said a word to him since.

It was coming up for five when Dean was sick of the kid sulking so he went upstairs to Castiel's bedroom.

"Hey, Cas, I was gonna start dinner. You should probably eat before you go out, it's not good to drink on an empty stomach," Dean said as Castiel ignored him for scrolling through his laptop. "Okay, well, can't say I didn't warn ya. At least let me know when you head out, okay?"

Dean retreated when he still didn't get a reply. Freakin' teenagers. He pulled out the pork steaks he'd been marinating since earlier in the afternoon, a couple of potatoes for mashing and a crunchy salad. Sam had sorta rubbed of on him with his health food obsession, it was kinda annoying.

Dean tossed the meal together and spread the food over two plates; if Cas didn't want any he could refrigerate the second plate for later. Dean walked over to the wall-computer and hit the intercom. "Cas, buddy, dinner's ready if you wanna eat."

Dean remembered to turn the intercom off this time and was surprised to hear Castiel stomping down the stairs.

Castiel dropped onto a bar stool at the island bench and Dean pushed his plate across, grabbing a knife and fork out of the top drawer and handing them to him as well.

"Thanks, Dean," Castiel said quietly.

"'S okay, Cas," Dean smiled, tucking in to his own dinner.

"So, uh, I was gonna head off around seven," Castiel said, cutting his whole steak into bite sized pieces before beginning to eat. When he was satisfied with the pork pieces, Dean watched as he speared them and dipped them into the mash before eating them. Weird kid.

"Sure. You gonna walk? You want me to walk you there?" Dean asked, glancing out the window at the darkening sky.

"Uh, Balthazar is gonna meet me downstairs. You can come down and meet him if you're really worried," Castiel suggested, even if it caused him to screw up his face.

"Nah, it's okay, man. If you trust him I guess that's good enough for me," Dean shrugged, picking at his salad.

They finished dinner in silence and Castiel excused himself to go and take a shower and get ready while Dean washed up. Not long after, Castiel was waiting for the elevator and leaving with a tense goodbye after Dean made him promise to be safe.

Dean decided to watch _Star Wars,_ because Han on that television? But he couldn't really relax. He was definitely worried about Cas and as the minutes passed he grew increasingly aware of how bad an idea it was to let him go.

By the end of the first movie, Dean had worried himself into a full blown state of anxiety and dashed to the kitchen to find the note Castiel had left him with Crowley's address. The teen hadn't been happy about doing so, but the alternative was not going. Dean steeled himself for a moment, it was just before nine thirty. Surely Cas hadn't drunk that much, and he'd be home in a couple of hours. He was gonna be fine! He's fine.

Well, that's what Dean kept telling himself as he impatiently tapped his foot the whole elevator ride down to the lobby, and it's what he told himself as he sprinted to Crowley's house a couple of blocks over. Dean just needed to see for himself.

The house was large and there were people spilled all over the veranda as the music radiated from everywhere. Dean forced his way through the drunken teens and into the house, glancing around. It took him less than a minute to realize he wasn't the oldest person there, and _that_ was concerning.

Dean grabbed a soberish looking guy and asked, "Do you know Castiel Novak? Have you seen him?"

The guy stared at him blankly but Dean turned around when he heard Castiel's voice above the noise.

"No, get off of me! P-piss off!" His voice was a slur, and Dean couldn't quite see where it was coming from. He darted into the closest room off the hallway and found a) that was where the alcohol was kept and b) Castiel cornered by a very large guy who was sucking on the scared boy's neck. "Get off me," he said feebly, trying to push the guy away. "I'm not even gay!"

Before Dean even _considered_ the repercussions, he was yanking the guy off Cas and punching him. The guy staggered and it was enough time for Dean to grab Cas and pull him out of the house.

"You stupid son of a bitch, Cas," Dean growled, wrapping an arm around the boy in order to help him walk. Kid was drunk beyond belief, and Dean hoped it was just alcohol affecting his bloodstream.

"Dean, that's mean," Castiel whined, but it immediately turned into a giggle. "That rhymed!"

"Do you have any idea what that guy could'a done to you Cas?" Dean demanded, stopping and turning Castiel to face him. "Where the hell was your friend, Balthazar? Or was that him?"

"Dean," Castiel said, looking shocked. "I'm fine. Nothing happened. You showed up!"

"Yeah, but what if I hadn't, huh? What if my worrying hadn't got the better of me? You'd be lying in a mess of body fluids with a sore ass is what, Castiel." Dean growled. It's all well and good that nothing actually did happen, but it's the 'what ifs' that were making him angry.

Castiel flinched at his words and tears welled in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Dean," he whispered, looking down at the concrete.

"Just," Dean took a breath and stopped himself from going on a tirade, "Let's just get you home, alright? We'll talk in the morning."

"M'kay," Castiel sniffed and allowed Dean to help him back to the apartment.

They went straight to Castiel's room, and once they stepped out of the elevator, Castiel raced to the bathroom. Dean heard the unmistakable sound of Cas vomiting his stomach out before he even reached the bathroom, but when he got there, he knelt on the floor next to Cas and rubbed comforting circles on his back.

"Get it all out, kid, you'll feel better," Dean promised, from experience.

After a couple of minutes of heaving, Castiel flushed the toilet and blinked up at Dean apologetically.

"Do you know how much you drank?" Dean asked as he filled the glass on the sink to hand to Castiel.

"A lot," the boy said as he stood shakily and took a sip, swirling the water around in his mouth and spitting it out before taking a real drink.

"Brush your teeth," Dean commanded, "I'll go get you some bed clothes."

Dean walked back into Castiel's bedroom and grabbed some random, semi-comfortable looking items of clothing and passed them on to Cas, leaving the kid in privacy to change.

Castiel exited the bathroom a couple of minutes later and clambered into bed. He sighed contentedly and Dean rolled his eyes as he maneuvered the limp body into the recovery position as Castiel stared up at him curiously.

"Sleep it off, Cas," Dean said, dropping into the armchair next to the bed.

"You gonna watch me sleep it off?" Castiel snapped, signifying the alcohol already wearing off.

"Recovery position only saves lives if it's monitored," Dean replied tiredly.

"Great," Castiel mumbled, stifling a yawn and falling silent. _Yeah,_ Dean thought, _this kid's gonna get it tomorrow._


	5. A Change of Attitude

_Let's go to the beach-each, let's go get a wave, bay, stay, what they gonna say?_

"Morning, Cas!" Dean shouted through the horrific music that rudely jerked Castiel from his slumber. Castiel sat up and glared at Dean for as long as he could manage, what with his eyes and head and muscles and bones aching. 

Dean was smirking at him as he turned the music off and walked over with a bottle of Gatorade and a couple of pills, handing them to Cas.

"Thanks, asshole," Castiel sneered, tipping the cool drink into his dry, fuzzy mouth and swallowing the pills.

"Weren't callin' me an asshole last night when I saved your ass," Dean shrugged, his expression darkening. Castiel felt his stomach drop as he remembered the events of the night before.

He and Balthazar had shown up and immediately started drinking. Somewhere around Castiel's fourth, he had realized he was alone. He decided to mingle for a bit, talking to randoms, drinking, drinking, _drinking,_ when one guy approached him.

They had chatted for a while, Castiel not noticing he was being backed into a corner until it was too late, and then the jerk was everywhere, his strong hands cupping, his hot mouth laving and Castiel was too inebriated to stop him, too weak to push him away.

"Right," Castiel shook the memory away, "Yeah, thanks, Dean," he said sincerely.

Castiel had hoped for a moment that Dean would let it go; he even looked like he would.

"What the hell were you thinking Cas?" He demanded angrily, sitting down on the bed next to Castiel. Castiel put the Gatorade on his bedside table and wrapped his arms around his knees, staring at the duvet.

"I didn't mean… It's not like I was _trying_ to get in trouble," Castiel whispered, his eyes prickling. He didn't want to fucking cry, especially not in front of Dean, and especially not when there wasn't anything to cry about.

"God, it's all my fault," Dean sighed, running a hand over his tired face. "Should'a never let you go."

"Hey," Castiel looked up at him, smiling weakly and trying to lighten the mood, "You know I would've gone just to spite you if you'd said no."

Dean didn't look amused, he just stood and turned away from Castiel. He turned around again and Castiel thought he was in for a verbal beating, but Dean just took a deep breath and said, "I'll make some breakfast for you and then I'm gonna get some shut-eye. Try not to get into any trouble, okay, kid?"

Castiel knew Dean didn't mean anything by calling him kid, he never did in the first place, but it still felt like a slap in the face, given the context.

"Yeah," Castiel nodded, dropping his gaze to his lap. Castiel watched Dean leave and sat silently in his bed, sipping his Gatorade until Dean let him know, over the intercom, that breakfast was ready.

By the time Castiel had walked down the staircase, Dean was out of the kitchen, no evidence of his being there except for a plate with a stack of waffles, bacon and a pot of syrup.

Castiel wasn't sure how angry Dean was -- if Dean couldn't even stand to be in his presence, or maybe Dean was just genuinely exhausted after having to watch Castiel all night.

Castiel conceded that it was probably a bit of both, and he felt more than a little guilty, especially considering, in his experience, so far Dean was a better cook than even Anna.

After Castiel was finished his breakfast he washed up his plate, betting that later Dean would tease him for having to do so.

Castiel decided to go upstairs and try to sleep off the rest of his headache and nausea, hoping that Dean would be in a better mood later.

* * *

Castiel awakened around midday to the quite sound of _The Beatles_ flowing through the speakers. He frowned and went downstairs to find Dean in the kitchen, rolling pastry. 

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Dean asked gently when he noticed Cas. "I didn't know how to isolate the speakers, so I just lowered the volume. How're you feeling?"

"A lot better," Castiel said carefully, unsure why Dean was being so nice. "What're you making?"

"Apple pie. It's my mom's special recipe. She used to make one every Sunday with the idea that we'd have desert for a week. It was usually completely gone by Tuesday at the very latest," Dean chuckled, laying the pastry in the pie dish and placing baking paper over the top. Dean sprinkled some rice over the top of the paper and placed the dish in the oven, dusting his hands on his pants after the door was closed.

"Pie is actually one of the few things I know how to make," Castiel admitted.

"Yeah?" Dean smiled at him for a moment, before his face dropped. "I'm sorry you were in trouble last night, Cas. I know it was my fault, and I'm gonna try real hard to make sure you stay safe, okay?"

"Dean," Castiel sighed tiredly, "don't blame yourself. Just forget about it, alright? I'm fine. Everything's gonna be fine. And stop being nice to me. It's creepy."

"I'm a nice guy!" Dean insisted, "And that's, like, the fifth time you've accused me of being creepy. I'm not creepy!"

"I dunno," Cas replied heavily, "That's what a creeper would say…"

"Shut up, you little punk," Dean winked, tossing a tea towel at him. Castiel laughed despite himself and shook his head at the man-child.

Castiel watched as Dean got back to work, putting the chopped apples into the pot with some sugar, cinnamon, water, and a secret ingredient he wouldn't tell Cas.

"If it's rohypnol, I'm not gonna be happy," Castiel warned jokingly.

"If it's rohypnol, you ain't gonna know," Dean assured him. _Paperback Writer_ started playing over the speakers. This song always resonated with Castiel. He often thought that he would love to be a novelist.

"Did you know Paul McCartney wrote this song after a request that he wrote a song that wasn't about love?" Castiel asked Dean, somewhat rhetorically. Dean just chuckled. "And the backing vocals at the end are to the tune of _Frère Jacques."_

"No shit," Dean paused his stirring to listen to the song properly. "Huh. Never noticed that before."

"Mm," Castiel said absently, his mind wandering. "Did you ever go to college, Dean?" Castiel asked, already anticipating the answer.

"Nah,"

"Would you?"

"I dunno, Cas," Dean said exasperatedly. "I dunno what would interest me enough."

"What did you do while you were taking care of Sam?"

"Scraped through high school, taking more time off than actually attending so I could work at a garage between split shifts at a coffee shop," Dean replied, moving away from the stove to check the pie base.

"Wow," Castiel huffed, impressed, realizing he really did know nothing about Dean. He saw Dean roll his eyes and realized Dean probably thought he was making fun of him. "No, seriously. That's kinda amazing, Dean. You, like, gave up your life for your brother."

"Shut up, Cas," Dean mumbled, blushing. Castiel decided to give Dean the benefit of the doubt and say it was the heat from the oven as he took the pie base out.

"So, um, you… You said your mom died but what about your father?" Castiel asked awkwardly, wishing he could've just stopped talking as Dean's expression darkened.

"What about my father?" Dean asked tersely.

"Can you tell me about him?" _Shut up, Cas, shut up, shut up, shut up!_

"Nope," Dean said, carefully lifting the baking paper off the pie base so the rice didn't go everywhere. Dean grabbed the pot with the apple filling in it and carefully spooned it onto the pastry.

"Sorry," Castiel said quietly. Dean glared at him for a moment before his expression softened.

"Don't sweat it, kid. John Winchester isn't the kinda guy you wanna hear about," Dean gave him an odd little quirk of his lips in an attempt at a smile that fell dismally short. "What about your Anna?"

Castiel sighed; he was beginning to like Dean and he wondered if that made him a traitor to his former nanny.

"My parents hired her when I was nine. She's been with me since then and in a month she's having twins, so she resigned, but I think my parents were close to getting rid of her anyway."

"Why?" Dean asked, covering the filling with another layer of pastry and putting the pie back in the oven.

"I think they wanted someone who could relate to a seventeen year old boy, and apparently this is what they came up with," Castiel gestured Dean vaguely.

"Hey, I'm down with the kids," Dean smirked. "'Sup. That’s whack. 'Sup with the whack playstation, 'sup."

"What on earth are you on about?" Castiel demanded, frowning at Dean.

"Joey Tribbiani? _Friends?_ No? You have _One Direction_ on your computer, but you don't know _Friends?"_ Dean stared at Cas incredulously.

"Excuse the hell outta me," Castiel said sarcastically.

"I hate to keep bringing this up, this'll be the last time, I swear, but did you know that guy? Was he from school? Do you need to take a couple of days off?" God, Dean fussed more than Anna!

 _"I'm fine, Dean,"_ Castiel promised. "He was just some random, I've never seen him before and I don't think I'll ever see him again."

"Good, 'cause if I ever see his sorry ass again I'll kick it into next year."

Castiel peered at Dean for a moment, his eyes running over his physique and he immediately decided that it was totally plausible and he was not gonna cross Dean, like, _ever._

"You say I'm creepy, but you're the one with that intense stare-y thing goin' on over there, Cas," Dean teased.

"Oh, as if you won't go into withdrawals if you don't have anyone looking at you for more than five minutes," Castiel snapped, feeling his cheeks grow warm.

"Hey, I wasn't complainin', just don't stare too long or you'll fall in love with me," Dean winked. Castiel ran his hands over his face and groaned aloud.

"You," he pointed to Dean, "cannot flirt with me. Not seriously, not jokingly, not at all. It's highly unprofessional, not to mention bordering illegal."

"Damn, Cas, don't get your panties in a twist!" Dean chuckled. "Relax, kid, I ain't flirtin' with ya."

"Damn straight."

"So since your parents wanted someone who could relate to you, you got anything you wanna talk about? Girls, guys, school, anything?" Dean asked casually, leaning against the island counter.

"Not particularly," Castiel answered stiffly.

"Not buyin' it, Cas. Spill."

"No, really. I'm not really interested in any of the girls at school, my friends are all fine and my school work is a breeze," Castiel insisted.

"How do you feel about your parents?" Dean asked carefully.

"I love them," Castiel said firmly, although he wondered if he was trying to convince himself more than Dean. "And I've come to terms with their absence long ago."

"But still…"

"Hey, you don't force me to talk about my parents, I'll show you the same respect. Capiche?"

"I capiche," Dean nodded placatingly.


	6. A Change of Title

Much to Castiel's amazement, the next few weeks flew by. School was breezy, coming home with Dean was fine and he was really starting to not hate Dean despite his initial attempts.

Castiel was at his study desk in his bedroom completing his homework and Dean was in the kitchen cooking dinner on the twenty-fourth of October when the phone rang.

"I'll get it," Cas shouted down the stairs, expecting it to be his parents. He hadn't heard from them since the first phone call when they arrived in Australia. He'd expected to hear something by now, even an email with a return date, but nothing.

"Novak residence, Castiel speaking," he answered politely.

 _"Castiel!"_ A vaguely familiar, frantic voice called. _"It's Michael, Anna's husband."_

"Good afternoon, Michael, how is everything?" Castiel asked, smiling as he remembered Anna's due date was next week.

_"They're early, Cas, the babies are early, you gotta get down here, Anna wants you here, Cas you gotta come!"_

"Wait, what? That's wonderful that they're finally coming, but why does Anna want me there?" Castiel asked.

_"We want you to be the godfather, you idiot, now get your ass down here before Anna tears me apart! She's frantic!"_

"She's not the only one," Castiel muttered, "tell her to sit tight, I'll be there as soon as!"

Castiel hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment, sitting in his chair in shock. Anna wanted him to be the godfather of her twins. She wanted seventeen year old Cas to be the godfather. Sure, these days it was more of a title than a genuine, legally binding responsibility, but still, like, whoa.

"Who was it, Cas?" Dean appeared at the top of the staircase.

"Anna's husband," Castiel said, relieved to hear he sounded much calmer than he felt. "Anna has gone into labour and has requested my presence as they wish to make me godfather."

"What!" Dean burst excitedly. "Cas, that's amazing! C'mon, kid, shake a tail feather! Let's get you to the hospital!"

Castiel was fairly certain it had never, ever taken so damn long to flag a cab, but eventually, they were on their way to the hospital, Dean chattering and asking him questions he didn't hear and couldn't answer.

Castiel had, after the first week, caved and handed Dean the card, so he felt no hesitation in shooting out of the cab before it had even come to a stop outside of the hospital. 

Castiel wasn't even three steps in the door when an excitable looking Michael brought him in for a hug.

"C'mon, Cas, she's waiting for us," he beamed, leading Castiel to the maternity ward and Anna's private room.

Anna was flushed and sweaty, her fiery hair plastered to her face, but she managed a wide smile when Castiel and her husband entered.

"Hey, Kitty-Cas," she grinned, "Glad you made it."

"A whole week early, Anna-Banana? These kids are already drama queens, just like their mother," Castiel chuckled.

"Not here yet," Anna groaned, "I'm only seven centimeters dilated."

"Gross," Castiel nodded with a grin. Michael had occupied the seat next to Anna and was squeezing her hand tightly-or maybe it was the other way around.

"Talk to me, Castiel," Anna commanded in a strained voice, "How's independence?"

"Oh," Castiel sighed, "it really _has_ been too long since we spoke. My mother hired a male nanny."

"I bet you loved that," Anna giggled as Michael asked, "Is he here?"

"Somewhere," Castiel answered Michael, waving his hand vaguely. "I wanted to hate him, Anna, I really tried, but he's actually pretty cool."

"I'll have-have to meet him some-sometime when two fucking babies aren't trying to rip me in half!" Anna swore. Castiel had never, ever heard Anna swear before. Before he could comment, a harried doctor bustled in and announced that it was time. Castiel politely excused himself because Anna-or anyone-giving birth was not something he ever wanted to see.

As he left, Michael promised to get him once the babies were clean and Castiel nodded gratefully, heading to the waiting room to find Dean.

Dean leapt out of his seat the minute he saw Cas, racing over to grab his arms. "Well?" He demanded.

"She's about to start... Pushing," Castiel shuddered. Dean let out a loud laugh, presumedly at Castiel, and lead the teen over to take a seat.

 In the end, they didn't have to wait very long, and Castiel figured that Anna must've been relieved. Michael had collected Castiel, in such a daze he barely registered Dean's presence, and led them to Anna. Dean politely waited in the hallway while Castiel was introduced to his godchildren.

Anna was pale and exhausted, but smiling brightly when Castiel entered the room, one tiny little human being in either of her arms. At her nod, Castiel hesitantly scooped up the baby from her left arm.

"That's my baby girl you've got there," Anna said quietly to Castiel, "Born two minutes and forty three seconds before this little fella."

"And she'll never let him forget it," Michael chuckled, kissing Anna's forehead and moving the blanket wrapped around his son to get a better look at him.

"Congratulations, you guys," Castiel choked, staring mesmerized at the tiny features of the child in his arms. "You figured out names?"

"Luke and Leia," Michael hissed, winking at Castiel conspiratorially. 

"Absolutely not!" Anna said firmly.

"Hansel and Gretel?" Castiel joked, earning him a snort from both of the new parents.

"We were thinking James Castiel Milton and Misha Sasha Milton," Anna said, looking up at her husband.

"That's right," he confirmed. "They look like a Jimmy and a Mish."

Castiel narrowly avoided screwing up his nose at the strange name picked for their daughter, and the common name for their son. "Perfect," he grinned, despite his misgivings. 

"Ooh, is Dean still here?" Anna asked brightly. "I wanna meet him."

"We can do that later, you don't need an outsider ruining your special day," Castiel said hesitantly.

"Nonsense!" Anna said. "He's your family and you're ours. Bring him in!"

Castiel glanced up at Michael who smiled and nodded, so Castiel turned to open the door and slip outside.

"Hey, godfather," Dean grinned easily.

"You wanna come in and say hi?" Castiel asked, suddenly nervous.

"Really?" Dean asked. "Yeah, I'd love to!" He bounced enthusiastically, beaming at Cas.

Castiel opened the door and led him into the room. "Anna, this is my... Well, this is Dean. Dean, this is Anna, James and Misha, and you already met Michael."

"So you're the famous Anna!" Dean grinned, walking over to shake Anna's free hand. "It's such a pleasure to finally meet you. Cas thinks the world of you! And congratulations to the both of you!"

"Thank you, Dean," Anna smiled up at him. Castiel was relieved that there wasn't any tension between them. "I look forward to comparing notes," she grinned evilly at Castiel who immediately blushed.

"So do I; _believe_ me," Dean chuckled. "You ready to get outta here, Cas? Give these guys a rare moment of peace before they're thrown in the deep end?"

"Oh, don't be like that, Dean," Anna chuckled. "Parenthood will be a blast!"

"Congratulations again, guy," Castiel smiled. "And no more radio silence," he promised Anna.

"Damn right, Kitty-Cas. You better start calling me once a week. I know were you live!" Anna smirked.

"See you, Anna-Banana. By Michael!" Castiel grinned, turning to leave.

"It was great to meet you both, and seriously, Anna, coffee. Once you've settled in to parenthood, you, me, all the dirty Cas-goss, alright?" Dean smirked as Castiel felt his cheeks warm.

"Its a date!" Anna agreed, waving goodbye.

"I can see why you liked her so much," Dean said as they exited the hospital.

"Yeah, well, you're not too bad for a follow-up act," Castiel shrugged.

"Did you just call me a sequel?" Dean demanded, stifling a laugh.

"Yeah, but you're a good sequel, like..."

"No, see, you can't think of an example because there aren't any good sequels," Dean protested. Castiel thought for a moment and then snapped his fingers, pointing at Dean.

"You're _The Dark Knight,"_ Castiel said.

Dean dropped his voice to an eerily accurate imitation of Batman, "Damn right I am."

"That sounded practiced. Do you practice talking like Batman?" 

"No. Maybe," Dean shrugged, before lowering his voice again. "I'm Batman!"

* * *

"You haven't heard from your parents, have you?" Dean asked after they'd caught up on the dinner Dean had been preparing before they were interrupted with babies.

"No," Castiel replied, "but it's not unusual."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Castiel scowled.

"Maybe we should give them a call, just to check up, see if they have a return date in mind?" Dean suggested, taking his and Castiel's plates over to the sink to rinse.

"Sick of me already?" Castiel tried to joke, but it was a genuine concern. It'd been part of the reason he hadn't wanted a new nanny in the first place. Anna turned out to be one of the very, very few people in the whole world that could tolerate Castiel and stand to be in his presence. He never liked the chances of finding someone who would want to stick around, not when his own parents couldn't.

"How could I ever tire of your endless dry humor and offensive comments, usually directed at me?" Dean winked and Castiel felt his stomach clench.

Dean was right. Castiel was an annoying, sarcastic piece of shit and why on earth would anyone want to stick around?

"You should, um... You should marathon _Doctor Sexy_ tonight," Castiel suggested, his throat tightening embarrassingly, "I know you've been wanting to do that. I'm-I'm gonna head upstairs."

Castiel pushed away from the bench and slid off the stool, hurrying out of the kitchen. He jogged up the stairs and flopped back on his bed, breathing hard through his nose, concentrating on willing away the lump in his throat and the prickling in his eyes. His parents left, they were all Castiel had and they left. Anna left, and she was his best friend, the only person in Castiel's world and she left. Dean. Dean was here now, but he was gonna leave. _This_ , right fucking here, was why Castiel never wanted a new nanny in the first place. He could've taken care of himself, and never had to worry about being left behind.

"Cas?" He heard his name called hesitantly from the door. His eyes shot open and he looked over at Dean, standing there with an overly concerned look on his face. Castiel wasn't sure where the fuck all these emotions had come from, but as he sat up and tried to say something, anything to Dean, he found he could only take a shuddering breath as he forced back his tears.


	7. A Change in Communication

"Sick of me already?" Castiel teased from behind him as he ran the tap over the plates.

"How could I ever tire of your endless dry humor and offensive comments, usually directed at me?" Dean joked, tossing a wink at Castiel over his shoulder. Castiel stayed silent, not bothering to make a witty retort, and that concerned Dean. Before Dean had a chance to finish the dishes and turn around, Castiel was mumbling something about Dean watching _Doctor Sexy,_ and Dean heard his rapid footsteps retreating.

Dean whipped around just in time to see Castiel disappearing up the stairs.

"The fuck have I done now?" Dean muttered, annoyed with himself. The last few weeks had been going well enough, in his opinion. He dried his hands with a tea towel and padded up the stairs to see what was going on.

"Cas?" He asked from the doorway, the boy lying on his back with his eyes squeezed shut. Castiel blinked at him and slowly sat up, looking distraught. Dean slowly approached the bed and Castiel wrapped his arms around his knees, resting his chin on top.

"What's the matter, Cas?" Dean asked gently, carefully sitting on the large bed next to Castiel. Cas titled his head and stared at Dean with his wide, watery eyes and Dean couldn't help feeling guilty, even though he wasn't sure he did anything wrong.

"I-" Castiel croaked, his brow furrowing. "I'm the worst."

"What?" Dean asked, bewildered. Castiel just buried his face in his knees and sniffed hard. Dean reached out and put a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder and said, "Tell me what's wrong Cas."

"E-everyone leaves, Dean," Castiel whispered. Dean swallowed hard and nodded, before realizing Cas couldn't see him.

"Yeah, Cas," he began carefully. "I know. I know what it's like to have everyone leave. But they're gonna come back. Your parents, they love you, and they're gonna come back. And Anna? She's gonna come back too. She's gonna spend some time with her babies, and then she'll spend some time with you. Just like Sammy loves me, and he's gonna come back to me, one day. And me, Cas? I ain't goin' anywhere."

Castiel peered up at him, his blue eyes shining. "You aren't?"

"Nope," Dean smiled softly, "you're not getting rid'a me that easy, kid."

Cas sniffed and let out a breathy chuckle.

"You're right about one thing, though; I've been dying to watch _Doctor Sexy,_ so why don't we relocate this pity-party to that nice big lounge downstairs, huh?" Dean suggested, reaching over and ruffling Castiel's perpetually tousled hair. Man, it was soft, too.

"Okay," Castiel gave him a small smile and unraveled himself from his ball of limbs.

Dean waited for Cas to stand before wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "You tell me if there's anything, anything at all that's upsettin' you, okay, Cas? No point in worryin' if we can avoid it, hm?"

"Yes, Dean," Castiel said as Dean led him down the stairs.

"You can tell me anything, alright? I'm here for you."

"Thank you," Castiel nodded, slipping onto the couch while Dean bustled around behind him, setting up the DVD. Dean leapt over the back of the lounge and settled next to Cas. Dean looked at the boy for a minute and watched as Castiel shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"What?" He asked self consciously.

"Do you have anything you want to tell me?" Dean prompted, in case the fear of abandonment wasn't the only thing on the kid's mind.

"Um… I don't think so?"

"Okay. Okay, you know-"

"Yes, I can tell you anything. Thank you, Dean, really," Castiel smiled. Dean nodded and started the first episode excitedly, as though he hadn't already seen it half a dozen times.

* * *

"I'm totally gonna go as Doctor Sexy for Halloween this year," Dean said as he stretched at the end of the first season.

"You have plans?" Castiel asked curiously.

"Yeah, man, I asked you about it last week," Dean replied. He watched as Castiel screwed up his face, trying to remember.

"Oh, yeah," he nodded eventually, "sorry. Forgot. Remind me what you're up to?"

"My friend Jo owns a bar over near my place, she closes it off for a private party every year. Figured I'd just go for a couple'a hours to catch up with everyone, but if you've changed your mind, I don't have to go," Dean offered neutrally.

"What? No! It's fine, Dean, I just forgot, that's all. Geez, asking a seventeen year old kid permission to go out is super lame, you know?" Castiel smirked, but there was a flicker of something else in his expression.

"You're the boss, as you so frequently remind me. Having said that, though, I think it's bed time, mister. It's been a long day," Dean yawned.

"I'm seventeen, not seven," Castiel pouted, "I don't need a bed time."

"Humor me?" Dean asked. "If you're a good boy I'll let you sleep in and then I'll make you waffles."

"You always let me sleep in and make me waffles," Castiel said, but stood anyway.

"Exactly, so you might wanna listen to me once in a while," Dean said firmly.

"Alright, then," Castiel sighed in mock defeat. "Goodnight, Dean, thanks for cheering me up."

"No worries, Cas. Don't let yourself get too down again, okay? You know where I am," Dean offered again, just in case.

Castiel gave him a lopsided smile and nodded, "Goodnight."

"Night, Cas," Dean grinned, turning off the television. He heard Castiel going up the stairs as he made his way to his own bedroom, thinking about how much chicks would dig this place. It really was a shame he couldn't bring anyone over while Cas was here, not that he'd been out enough to meet anyone in the last month. Dean frowned as he realized he didn't really mind too much. Castiel wasn't too bad to hang out with, not like Dean would've expected from a seventeen year old. He was funny and quick, wise and mature beyond his years. Beyond Dean's years, too, at that.

Dean stripped off and climbed into the shower. It was a fancy ass rich person's digital shower that had taken him a long time to figure out-as if he was asking Castiel for help! Especially not back in the beginning when things had been tense.

Now that Dean knew how to work the shower, he freakin' loved the damn thing, especially the steam setting. Tonight, though, he was too tired to appreciate anything other than a good old fashioned shower, set to the perfect temperature by the point of a degree. And if Dean found himself jerkin', well, like he said, it had been a while since he got laid.

As Dean climbed into bed, his mind was back on Castiel. He really hoped Mr or Mrs Novak would call soon, because if Dean was this upset by their radio silence, poor Castiel must have been in turmoil.

* * *

Dean still hadn't figured out the black out feature for the windows that Cas had going on in his bedroom, though he strongly suspected it could be achieved through fiddling with the wall-computer.

The sun that was filtering through the window onto his face, though, was actually quite nice. The evenings through mornings were growing cooler, and Dean figured that they'd probably start having to use the heating soon, and he made a mental note to check that Castiel was keeping warm of a night.

When Dean was taking care of Sam, it had mostly been the two of them sharing a bedroom in their small apartment, the other bedroom saved for their father. Though their father wasn't home most nights, it was never guaranteed that he wouldn't show up at some ungodly hour and pitch a fit if one of his sons were sleeping in his bed. Through sharing a room, Sam and Dean shared a energy efficient space heater, and Dean would always know that if Sam were particularly restless, tossing and turning through the night, he was cold, and so Dean could give up a blanket or two for his brother.

With Cas, though, they were on entirely different levels. He assumed Castiel was fine, since he'd never heard the kid complaining about the temperature, but some teenagers are just stubborn and think they don't need to dress warm. Castiel definitely fit into the stubborn category, and Dean didn't want him getting sick, so he decided to ask him over breakfast.

Dean pulled himself out of bed and brushed his teeth before heading out to the kitchen to start on breakfast. Dinner seemed like days ago, so he was pretty keen to get the waffle iron warmed up and the pan on the stove for the bacon.

Dean had a healthy stack of food accumulating and a cup of coffee in his hand by the time a disheveled Castiel wandered down the stairs, staring blankly at nothing.

"You look like crap," Dean greeted, "you get any sleep last night? Were you warm enough? Were you worrying about your parents? Is-"

"Dean!" Castiel cut him off, his frown deepening. "It's, like, zero am! One question at a time!"

"Sorry, kiddo. Here," Dean forked a couple of waffles and a pile of bacon onto a clean plate for Castiel, "you want some coffee?"

"No, thanks. This is great, Dean, as always," Castiel offered him a small smile.

"I know I'm awesome, Cas, no need to remind me," Dean chuckled. "So, _were_ you warm enough?"

"Yes, Dean," Castiel said, looking amused.

"I just worry, okay? It's getting colder!"

"Alright, Dean."

"And you slept okay? You weren't still worrying, were you?" Dean prompted.

"Nope, I slept fine," Castiel promised.

"Alright-y. So what's the plan for today, Cas?"

"Well, you said you wanted to go to your Halloween party as Doctor Sexy, so I figured we go and hunt you down some cowboy boots," Castiel suggested.

"Oh," Dean felt his cheeks warm and he gave a tiny cough, "I-I think I'll just be needing the scrubs and a lab coat…"

Castiel put down his knife and fork and stared up at Dean, a slow grin spreading evilly across his face.

"I have _got_ to hear this story!" Castiel snickered.

"Cas," Dean whined.

"Nope!" He grinned, his eyes glinting. "And don't you dare lie."

Dean sighed as he turned the waffle iron off and poured syrup over his share.

"I was with… Someone..." Dean began, wincing, "… had a thing for cowboys." Dean left out the part where _he_ was the one into cowboys. Castiel let out a bubble of curious laughter.

"It wasn't just the boots, was it?" Castiel asked, biting his lip, trying not to laugh. Dean glared at him halfheartedly and shook his head.

"Chaps and… What the hell am I doing telling you this? You're seventeen!" Dean stabbed a rasher of bacon and shoved it into his mouth to stop himself from talking.

"Chaps and?" Castiel prompted. Dean hissed the word like a curse in the presence of a priest. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

"Lasso," Dean grunted, carefully inspecting his breakfast.

"Huh," he heard Castiel say. In spite of himself, Dean's head snapped up to gauge Castiel's reaction. The boy was staring at him, his expression impassive as ever.

"You, uh, enjoying the waffles?" Dean asked, not even bothering with subtlety in order to get the hell away from the previous conversation. Castiel blinked at him once, twice, and snapped his slightly agape mouth shut, nodding quickly.

"Yeah, they're good. Did you use butter or oil on the iron?"

"Butter," Dean replied.

"See, I was gonna say butter! They just taste better when you use butter, all delicious and buttery," Castiel rambled, filling what would have been an awkward silence with jibber jabber.

"Yeah, but you've still gotta-"

"Still gotta put more butter on them when they're done, exactly!" Castiel finished, smiling at Dean with something curious-something that Dean couldn't quite place-in his expression.

"Exactly," Dean nodded, returning the smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How're you guys feelin' about this one? Hope you're liking it...


	8. A Change in Proximity

All week, _all goddamn week_ , Castiel found his mind wandering to Dean's cowboy themed sexcapades. It wasn't like he was _interested,_ per se, in fact he had no desire whatsoever to find out more about that side of Dean… It was just fascinating. Dean, while a massive flirt and presumed slut, always kinda came across as vanilla. The girl must've been someone special.

That was the other thing. Castiel wanted to ask about this girl, but he never worked up the courage, especially since asking would be admitting to Dean he'd been thinking about it, and that was all kinds of painfully awkward.

So, Castiel kept his mouth shut and went about his business.

They had, in fact, found a pair of scrubs for Dean. It went down like the most ridiculous illicit trade Castiel could imagine; he asked Balthazar who asked his older brother, Lucifer, who asked his friend who worked at the hospital. The blue scrubs were passed through four sets of hands before finally reaching a smug-looking Dean, who'd rented a lab coat from the costume store. Castiel wasn’t sure why he couldn't have just done that with the scrubs, too, but Dean had just blushed and mumbled something nonsensical, so Castiel figured he didn’t want to know.

Friday afternoon, Halloween, Dean had taken Castiel to the video store after school and told him to pick up some DVDs and snacks while Dean ducked across the road to pick up some booze.

"You're going to _a bar,"_ Castiel said incredulously when he met Dean outside and they began the short walk home.

"I know! I'm not drinking Jo's revenue! 'S a matter'a fact, she'd probably charge me," Dean shrugged, "So what did you get?"

"Keeping with the Halloween theme, I rented some horror movies," Castiel said, peering into his bag, "or thrillers. I don't know, I just picked out a couple of random ones that looked scary."

"Can you handle scary movies, Cas?" Dean asked as they approached their building.

"Sure," Castiel replied easily. Dean didn't need to know the first time he watched a horror movie it was _The Shining_ and he was nine and couldn't sleep for _months._

"Okay, well, I'm gonna head off about nine, so you mind if I watch one or two with you?" Dean asked.

"That’s fine," Castiel assented, watching as Dean smiled brightly. Why was he so excited about hanging out with a kid all night? True, they kind of had fallen into rhythm, and they definitely got along well, but there's a difference between that and… _Friendship._ Were they friends? They shared food, watched movies together, made fun of each other, and Dean had shared an explicit memory with Castiel… Those are kind of terms of friendship, right? He'd considered Anna as a friend.

Castiel decided not to overthink it, because he'd just end up upsetting himself.

"I'll make us some dinner and then we can watch one of the movies, yeah?" Dean suggested as the exited the elevator into the middle level.

"Okay. Do you need a hand with anything?" Castiel offered. Dean gave him a funny look as he set his alcohol down on the bench. "What?" Castiel asked self-consciously.

"Did you just offer to help me with dinner?"

"Well, I mean, yeah. I eat it, too…" Castiel trailed off awkwardly. "Don't make it into a big deal, do you want help or not?"

"Uh, sure," Dean replied, looking slightly put-off. Castiel put the DVDs beside Dean's alcohol and moved to wash his hands in the sink.

"Okay, so what am I doing?" Castiel asked eagerly as Dean washed his hands. Dean looked at Castiel critically, obviously thinking hard.

"I'll get you to shred the chicken," he decided eventually, moving to the fridge and taking out the raw meat. "Grab out the red chopping board and the medium knife from the block."

Castiel glanced around the kitchen and easily located the knife block, but he had no idea where the chopping boards were stored. He sent Dean a questioning look, but Dean just chuckled and opened the bottom drawer underneath the outer bench and handed Castiel the chopping board.

"Shred?" Castiel asked, taking the chicken out of its wrapping it and putting it on the board.

"Yeah," Dean took the knife and nudged Castiel out of the way with his hips. Dean put the knife a quarter of an inch off the edge of the meat and sliced through it. He did that a couple of times before handing Castiel the knife. "Shredding," he grinned.

Castiel nodded and placed the knife on the meat and pressed down. The chicken was squishy and difficult to cut through, and Castiel ended up positively mutilating the pieces while Dean huffed chuckles from next to him. Castiel had let out a growl of frustration before Dean decided to intervene.

"Here," he said, placing is left hand over Castiel's, showing him how to hold the meat firmly so it didn’t move as much. Dean wrapped his other arm around Castiel and helped Cas hold the knife at a slight angle so it was much easier to slice. "Got it?"

Holy shit, that was Dean's hot breath on his neck and Dean's huge hands covering his and what the hell was happening?

"Much better," Castiel confirmed and Dean moved away to re-wash his hands, after the contact with the meat, and get the stir-fry mix out of the fridge.

"What now?" Castiel asked after he was finished with the chicken. He moved over to where Dean was standing over a pan on the stove, a small amount of oil bubbling on the medium heat.

"Dump the chicken in here," Dean instructed. Castiel did as he was told and watched Dean stirring, making sure the chicken was cooked evenly before tossing the pre-chopped vegetables in. Castiel put the board and knife in the sink and washed his hands as Dean hollered to get the sauce and noodles out of the fridge.

"What sauce?" Castiel asked, staring at the multiple bottles in the fridge.

"Black sachet, sweet and sour," Dean replied. Castiel spotted it and took it and the noodles over to Dean.

"Now, squeeze the sauce into the pan and throw the noodles in," Dean told him.

"They don't need to be boiled?" Castiel asked, staring doubtfully at the noodles.

"Nope, that's the beauty of 'em," Dean grinned. Castiel shrugged and added the sauce and noodles, and Dean began to stir again, waiting for the added ingredients to heat.

"Grab me a couple of bowls?" Dean asked as he picked out a piece of chicken with his fingers and popped it in his mouth, "Son of a bitch!"

"Hot?" Castiel laughed, rolling his eyes and getting the bowls out.

"Yes," Dean replied sulkily.

"Fancy that," Castiel smirked. Dean ignored him in favor of shoveling the stir-fry into their bowls.

"Here y'are, Cas, your dinner that _you_ cooked. It'll taste a hundred times better," Dean grinned as he handed over the bowl.

"I didn't cook it," Castiel scoffed, "I barely helped!"

"It's stir-fry, Cas. Easiest damn thing you'll ever need to cook, remember that. You decide on a movie?"

"Yeah, I was gonna put on the original _Nightmare On Elm Street,"_ Castiel said as he picked up the DVD in his free hand and lead Dean to the lounge room.

"Mm, Johnny Depp," Dean smirked with a far-off look in his eye. Castiel wasn't sure if he was joking or not, so he ignored him and put the DVD on.

They ate their dinner quietly and watched the movie in amicable silence, like they'd done so many nights before. Castiel was pleased to find that, due to shoddy acting, bad graphics, or some magical combination of the two; the movie wasn't too scary.

The movie finished around half eight, so Cas turned to Dean and said, "Dean, it's coming up for nine, aren't you gonna get ready?"

Dean pursed his lips and sat quietly for a moment. "Yeah, guess so," he sighed, stretching like a cat, but not moving off the lounge. "What movie are you gonna watch next?"

"I… I picked up _The Shining,_ for old times' sake. It was the first horror movie I watched," Castiel admitted, moving to change the disk.

"See," Dean began, "I can't leave if you're brining out Jack Nicholson. I love _The Shining!"_ Dean grinned.

"Oh, okay, well, we can watch it tomorrow instead. I've still got a couple of others and-"

"No, no," Dean interrupted, "put 'er on. I'll hang around for some of it, y'know, for old times' sake," he added with a wink. Castiel shrugged and curled up on the end of the couch, grabbing the throw and wrapping it around himself.

"You cold? You need the heat up a little?"

"Relax, Dean," Castiel drawled, "even if I were cold enough to want the heat up, I'd be capable of doing it myself."

"I know, I just," Dean paused, "worry."

Not even five minutes into the movie and Castiel was feeling the pit of dread in his stomach.

 _Fiction, it's all fiction,_ he reminds himself, but it doesn't quell the anticipatory fear. By the time Danny sees the twins, his face is buried in the blanket, occasionally peeking out at the massive screen.

"Hey, man, you okay?" Dean asked, scooting closer. It was way past when Dean should have left, but Castiel had never been more glad of the other man's presence.

"Th-thought I could handle it, now that I'm older," Castiel muttered, watching Jack retreat from 237.

"You want me to turn it off?" Castiel turned his gaze to Dean, who was looking a little unsure. Castiel shook his head, not wanting Dean to make fun of him for not being able to sit through a goddamned fictional movie.

"It's okay," he replied quietly, "I'll manage."

Dean nodded hesitantly, but he didn't move back to his side of the lounge, in fact he stayed quite close to Castiel, who found himself grateful for the proximity.

Anna had warned him, all those years ago. "You won't like this movie," she had said, "it'll scare you." But it was _Anna and Michael_ and he just wanted to hang out with these cool _adults_ so he insisted on watching the movie and while he'd kept his emotions and reactions in check at the time, that night he couldn't stop thinking about the bloodied twins, the moldy lady, the blood rushing through the hallways, _redrum._ He never spoke about it to Anna or his parents or anyone, but that movie had scared the bejesus out of him.

 _"Here's Johnny!"_ Castiel flinched as the maniacal words were thrown out and oh god. Castiel buried his face in his hands and he didn't know whether to be embarrassed or eternally grateful when the room fell silent and the lights flicked on.

"Hey," Dean put his hand very gently, barely there, on Castiel's shoulder, but Cas still jumped violently at the gesture. "Shit, Cas!"

"S-sorry," he looked up at Dean guiltily. "I'm okay, really. You can put it back on."

"Cas, you're shaking," Dean said flatly, "I'm glad I didn't leave you to watch this alone!"

"Yes, and why _did_ you decide to stay?" Castiel asked, trying to distract himself.

"I was enjoying hangin' out here," Dean shrugged, and Castiel wasn't even going to begin to try to interpret why Dean would prefer to stay in with him than go to a party with his _friends._ "How 'bout I put on a nice movie to calm us down before bed," Dean suggested, walking over to the DVD cabinet to find something suitable. Castiel felt guilty but didn't protest. _"The Aristocats,_ perhaps?"

Castiel had to chuckle because of course Dean would somehow manage to guess his favorite Disney movie. _"Purr_ fect," Castiel said quietly, causing Dean to groan.

"I can tell you right now, if you make another single pun through this movie, I'm gonna put _The Shining_ back on," Dean threatened.

"Okay, okay," Castiel said placatingly, "thanks, Dean," he said. Not just for changing the movie, or picking the perfect replacement, but for those things and everything else. Dean smiled and nodded-he got it.

* * *

"Bedtime?" Dean suggested as the reprise of _Ev'rybody Wants To Be A Cat_ signaled the end of the movie.

"Absolutely," Castiel yawned and turned the television off.

At the bottom of the staircase Castiel programmed the wall-computer so his bedroom lights were on and bright and waiting for him. He turned back to see Dean watching him curiously.

"You gonna be okay?" Dean asked seriously, as though he were waiting for Cas to break down. Maybe that's exactly what he was waiting for.

"Yeah, thanks, Dean," Castiel nodded, hesitating at the bottom of the stairs.

"Alright," Dean replied, not entirely convinced, "holler if you need anything."

"Will do," Castiel nodded again, "G'night, Dean."

"Night, Cas," Dean said. Castiel felt his eyes on him as he ascended the stairs, but he supposed Dean had a right to be worried. Castiel himself was worried.

He was exhausted and he decided that he'd shower in the morning, so he climbed into his warm, soft bed and turned the lights off. As soon as the room was dark, Castiel stiffened and lay still on his back, his eyes wide open, trying desperately to adjust to the dark.

Castiel knew he was being ridiculous, _god_ did he know. But still.

He tried to go through the plot of _Aristocats_ in his mind to distract himself.

_To which pets do all others tip their hats? Naturellement! The Aristocats!_

_The kittens playing on Edgar's hat and Frou Frou, Duchess telling them to thank Frou Frou. Then, they go inside and Marie and Berlioz watch Toulouse paint and then they practice their_ Scales and Arpeggios _, and tara-ra boom-de-ye, Adelaide dances with Georges and leaves her fortune to her cats and her mansion is kind of like The Overlook._

And then Castiel was back to square one.

He chased his thoughts around for hours, too tense to actually fall asleep. Eventually, he gave up altogether, flicking the lights back on and casting a paranoid glance around before heading down to the kitchen.

As quietly as he could, he made himself a cup of sleep-easy tea, even though he knew it didn't work, it tasted nice and was somewhat calming. Unfortunately, he wasn't quiet enough, because Dean came in after not very long, rubbing his bleary eyes.

"Cas?" He frowned.

"Sorry, Dean," Castiel whispered, "I'm just getting a cup of tea. Go back to bed."

"You been awake all this time?" Dean asked, glancing at the clock on the microwave.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"Do you… Are you scared?" Dean was too tired to beat around the bush, from the looks of it.

"A little," Castiel admitted, sipping his scalding tea, feeling quite ridiculous. Dean stared at him, long and hard before sighing and looking at his feet.

Dean looked like he was on the edge of making a one time offer that Castiel could absolutely refuse-he was seven-freakin'-teen after all! Dean yawned and casually jerked his head in the direction of his bedroom that could have been interpreted one of a million ways, any of them open for Cas to choose.

"Thanks," Castiel mumbled gratefully, feeling beyond ashamed, but putting his cup in the sink nevertheless and following Dean out of the kitchen. "I'm so sorry," he whispered as they entered Dean's dark room.

"Don't sweat it," Dean said, sounding genuine. "Sammy occasionally crawled into bed with me all the way up until he left for college. Ain't a big deal, Cas."

"Thank you," Castiel waited as Dean got settled on his side and flipped the covers back for Castiel to crawl in. Cas supposed Dean was right. Dean and Sam did it, Anna and Cas had done it, so maybe it really wasn't a big deal.

"Try'n get some sleep, 'kay, bud? I'm right here. Nothin'll dare touch ya with me around," Dean mumbled, already sounding half asleep. Castiel couldn't help but smile at that, because, yeah, being with Dean was already making him feel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I freaked myself out a bit during this chapter. The Shining still gets to me, and it was, like, 2:30am when I finished writing and I'd spent the day watching AHS and so I kinda hid under the blankets because I don't have a Dean Winchester to snuggle up to and I'm a giant wuss. Hope you're enjoying this piece :)


	9. A Change in Family

The first thing Dean was aware of when he woke up was the shrill ringing of a phone. In fact, that may have been the very reason he was awake. The second thing was the furnace-like heat radiating from the body next to him -- Castiel. Dean shoved that in the  _things to not talk about_ pile and slipped out of bed to grab the phone from the kitchen. _  
_

"Hello?" He mumbled, stifling a yawn.

_"Who is this?"_

"You called me," Dean frowned.

"You're  _answering_ my  _phone!"_

"Oh, right, sorry Mrs Novak, it's Dean," Dean sighed with relief once he realized who he was speaking to.

_"Dean? You put Castiel on the phone right now!"_

"Uh, sure, just a sec, I'll get him. He's still in bed, it's, like, seven am here," Dean replied, taking the phone to his bedroom where Cas was blinking sleepily out of the window. Castiel looked up at him when he walked in, _"Your mom,"_ Dean mouthed, handing the phone over.

"Hello, mother," Castiel said neutrally. Dean couldn't hear what his mother was saying, but whatever it was caused Castiel to screw up his face in annoyance. "Dean is my nanny!" He said, outraged. Dean rolled his eyes, of course Mrs Novak had forgotten about him. "No, it's always been Dean, never any Daniel. God, that's not even close!... Twenty-third of November? You're gonna be home for Thanksgiving?" Castiel perked up minutely, but then his shoulders slumped again. "Peru?... Yeah... Yes, mother... Fine. Enjoy the rest of your--" Dean watched as Castiel pulled the phone away and stared at it for a moment, looking thoroughly downcast. "--trip."

Dean had no clue what to say. Castiel was staring at the phone in his lap, looking for all the world like he'd just received a call saying his dog died.

"You, uh, want some waffles?" Dean asked quietly. Castiel's gaze honed in on him and his big blue eyes blinked furiously a couple of times before he nodded.

"Yes, please," he replied. Dean nodded and headed back out into the kitchen. It was _way_ too early for family drama.

Dean had turned about half of the batter into waffles by the time Castiel wandered out of the bedroom, putting the phone back on the charger.

"So, um, my parents are gonna be in Peru for Thanksgiving," Castiel said, sliding onto one of the barstools.

"That's okay, kid, you wouldn't have wanted to spend the day with them, anyway," Dean said carefully, unsure how to navigate.

"I guess you're right," Castiel sighed, dropping his head into his arms. "Anna mentioned in passing that I could go to her place, but I'm not sure..."

"What if we invite them here?" Dean suggested. Castiel lifted his head to look at Dean.

"We?"

"Well, yeah, kid, I ain't flying to Cali to see my brother -- I freakin' hate planes -- so he's comin' here. Well, not 'here' here, not if you don't want, but I dunno, Anna and Michael and the twins can come, and Sam can come, and the--" Dean paused to do a mental head-count, "--seven of us can have a nice family Thanksgiving!"

"Except for the fact that we aren't really family," Castiel said bitterly.

"Hey, family don't end with blood, kid," Dean said seriously, and then shrugged, "but hey, if you don't like that idea, I'm open to suggestions. I just know I ain't letting you spend Thanksgiving alone. Not when you're only seventeen."

Dean thought back to when he was seventeen. It wasn't Thanksgiving; Christmas, actually. Sam had a little girlfriend who had invited him over once she found out it was just gonna be him and his deadbeat brother on the holiday, their father god knows where for god knows how long. Sam had begged Dean to go, and Dean didn't even put up an inkling of a fight because he knew he couldn't offer his brother anywhere near as good an alternative.

 _"Dean,"_ Castiel snapped his fingers in front of Dean's face, "where'd you go just now?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry," Dean rubbed the back of his neck, trying to remember what Castiel had said.

"Anyway, like I was saying; I think we should do it! I'd like to meet Sam, and having Anna and Michael here would take a load off of them," Castiel said decisively.

"Great," Dean smiled, "give 'em a call later and we'll set it up. Now, waffles?"

* * *

After they had consumed their own body weight in waffles, Castiel excused himself to go and take a shower, and Dean decided he'd give Sam a call.

_"M'ello?"_

"Heya, Sammy!" Dean grinned, "Rough Halloween?"

 _"Dean, we've talked about this:_ time difference," Sam groaned and Dean visualized his brother'a bitchface.

"Sorry, kiddo, I forgot," Dean chuckled, "hey, you're still comin' up for Thanksgiving, right?"

 _"Yes, Dean,"_ Sam said impatiently.

"Okay, okay, just checkin'. Me 'n Cas decided we're doin' it at his place with his former nanny since his parents won't be 'round and all," Dean said, annoyance seeping into his tone. Not that it was any of his business -- except that now it actually _was_ \-- but who the hell leaves their kid alone through the holidays? _Other_ than John Winchester?

_"Shit Dean. Castiel's lucky to have you."_

"Hardly," Dean snorted, glancing up at the staircase to make sure Castiel wasn't coming down yet.

_"Are things better with the two of you? It's been a while since we talked."_

"Things are okay, I guess. He's a teenager, though, so it really just depends on his mood," Dean shrugged, clearing the plates from breakfast.

_"So you're getting along?"_

"Yeah. Yeah, he's a good kid," Dean felt himself smiling fondly.

 _"Great, well, like you said -- rough Halloween, so I'm gonna go back to sleep."_ Dean heard Sam yawn.

"Okie dokie, we'll talk later," Dean nodded, "see ya, kid."

 _"Bye,_ adult," Sam said snarkily and hung up.

Dean put the phone down and headed to the lounge room, channel surfing until Castiel showed up twenty minutes later.

"Hey, you wanna watch the rest of the movies you rented, or something else?" Dean offered as Castiel curled up on the lounge, his wet hair sticking out in every direction.

"Whatever you're watching is fine," he said carefully. "I just got off the phone with Anna. They'd love to come around for Thanksgiving."

"Great," Dean grinned.

"One problem: I can't cook and you can't do a whole Thanksgiving meal by yourself."

"It's okay, Cas, we'll take our time and I'll help you learn, and Sammy can come earlier and help too," Dean replied easily.

"Dean, I want you to take a couple of days off to spend with Sam while he's here," Castiel said firmly.

"What?" Dean creased his brows. "I'm gonna spend plenty of time doin' shit with him, but you're gonna be right there too, Cas."

"No, seriously, Dean, take some time off," Castiel pushed, but this time it was more hesitant, so Dean snatched at it.

"C'mon, Cas, you'll love Sam! He's a big ol' nerd, just like you, and I think he'll enjoy being the big brother for once."

"You actually want me there while you hang out with your brother, who you haven't seen since September?" Castiel said, sounding doubtful.

 _"Duh,"_ Dean replied. For a smart kid, Castiel could sure be thick sometimes.

"Oh," Castiel replied, smiling a small grin to himself, "okay. Well, in that case, Sam is more than welcome to stay here."

Dean took a moment to comprehend that, "Really?"

"'Less he's got a motel or you wanna run back and forth between your apartment and here, of course. As if I wouldn't let him stay here!" Castiel snorted.

"Wow, thanks Cas," Dean beamed, "you're pretty cool."

"Even if I can't deal with scary movies?"

"Yeah, remind me to not let you watch _American Horror Story._ That shit'll fuck you up," Dean shook his head, remembering the first time he'd watched the show.

"You're pretty cool, too," Castiel nodded before adding, "for an old guy."

"Oof!" Dean grunted, "I am _not_ old."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was shortish, but it's a setup for plot! OOOH, plot!
> 
> I'm still wanting to try a collab fic, so if you like my writing and you're interested, hit me up: mollie_hannah@hotmail.com


	10. A Brief Change in POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief Sam!POV (still third person, though) for this one. I did minimal research on Thanksgiving, and basically took what I saw from Friends episodes and left it at that.
> 
> Please note: In this chapter Dean makes a joke about Sam becoming a girl (after the pagebreak when they're giving thanks). This comment was not intended to be transphobic by the character or myself, and even though I'm certain it doesn't read that way, I don't want to offend or make anyone uncomfortable, so I'm just giving a warning.

Sam had told his brother not to bother catching a cab all the way to the airport, just to get another all the way in, but when did Dean ever listen to what he said? 

So Sam wasn't altogether surprised when he saw Dean grinning like a mad man as he exited baggage claim.

"Heya, Samsquatch!" Sam rolled his eyes but allowed his brother to pull him into a hug, smugly noting he was a pretty much the same height as Dean. "Stop growing!" Dean growled when they pulled away.

"Yeah, good to see you too, Dean," Sam smiled.

"Alright, alright, let's get a cab and you can spend the entire ride fangirling about your little school and your little girlfriend," Dean smirked.

Sam felt his cheeks heat and his eyes go wide in horror, "How did you know about Jess?" He demanded. Dean stared at him for a moment before bursting out in loud guffaws.

"You just told me, you big idiot! I was joking, sheesh!" 

Sam immediately knew he had really dug his own grave with that one. He tried to keep the conversation on school for most of the cab ride, but Dean kept swaying the conversation to Jess. 

Finally, they pulled up outside of a massive building with crown moldings and a doorman on a red carpet and he huffed and said, "No way."

"Yes way. This is my new home away from home," Dean said, handing the fare to the driver and hopping out. Sam grabbed his bags from the trunk and followed Dean into the marble lobby. They stepped into the mirrored elevator and rode straight to the top, just about, and stepped out into an open apartment that was, frankly, massive.

"Wow," Sam let out a low whistle as his eyes roamed over the apartment, before fixing on Castiel, "Oh, hey! Hi, Castiel, I'm Sam," he smiled, shoving his bags at Dean and walking over to shake Castiel's hand.

"It's nice to finally meet you," Castiel replied, "I'm making tea, would you like some? Or a coffee?"

"Tea would be perfect," Sam grinned, "it's so cold out there!"

"Just because you live in California," Dean grumbled as he heaved Sam's bags to his bedroom, "god, what do you have in here, princess?"

"So how have your classes been going?" Castiel asked in favor of either of them acknowledging Dean.

Sam watched as he started making two cups of tea for himself and Sam, and a cup of coffee with a subtle amount of sugar for Dean -- who claimed he detested the product, but always secretly liked his coffee being a little sweet. Castiel had, apparently, figured out that Dean was always in a better mood if his coffee had sugar and especially if he didn't have to admit he put it there himself.

"Really good," Sam said enthusiastically, "yeah, we've just started this new topic in--"

"Okay, dork, he was just being polite, he don't actually care," Dean said as he reappeared in the kitchen. Sam watched Castiel hand the coffee to Dean, a small smile playing on his lips. Dean offered a wink that was barely a twitch of his eye and smiled brighter than Sam had ever seen in return. The gesture seemed oddly domestic and personal, and Sam felt like he was intruding on a couple's moment, which was all kinds of weird.

"Erm, so, how's _your_ school?" Sam asked, breaking the pair's seemingly infinite eye contact. Castiel looked back at him and handed Sam his tea as though he hadn't just had a moment with his manny. Whatever.

"It's okay," Castiel shrugged, "I'm in my last year, so that's pretty cool."

"Don't ask him what his plan for college is, though, he'll tear you a new one," Dean smirked, but it was a fond, proud kind of smile.

Sam looked between his brother and his brother's ward. He sincerely wanted to ask if something was going on, but he decided to see how the following few days panned out before confronting either of them, just to see if it was his imagination.

"That's okay, you don't _need_ a plan for college, it's always nice to have one, but you could go abroad, you could work for a bit... Not everything in life needs to be planned, things just... Happen," he offered, despite himself, hinting an opportunity for them to 'fess up. The way Dean talked about Cas on the phone would definitely begin to make sense if there were something more, even if it were unprofessional and -- oh, god -- illegal.

"We certainly know that, don't we, Cas?" Dean grinned at the boy who offered a small smile in return. 

"Show Sam his room," Castiel told Dean, who mock saluted and jerked his head in the direction of the room.

* * *

The following day was Thanksgiving, and Dean had everyone up bright and early to start preparing the meal.

Dean had Sam and Castiel chopping and boiling yams, potatoes, and pumpkins for the pie, while he prepared the stuffing and basted the turkey. 

By the time that Anna, who Sam knew to be Castiel's former nanny, and her family arrived, which was weird in Sam's opinion, at three-thirty, dinner was just about done, and everyone was starving, despite questioning why it was the one day of the year they had to eat so early, like old people.

Anna and Michael turned out to be lovely, and they positively doted on their twins, as did Castiel, who Sam found out was god father.

Throughout the day, Sam had noticed Dean and Castiel gravitating around each other. They even sat on the same side of the table, even though Dean always used to take the head on those rare occasions they had spent a holiday with the Harvelle/Singer family. They shared glances, and smiles, and Dean cut Cas the second biggest slice of pie, the largest going to himself, obviously.

"I'm thankful for my beautiful wife, our gorgeous children, and one helluva meal," Michael started them off, patting his full belly and giving Anna a kiss on the forehead.

"I'm thankful that the twins have been asleep in their cots the whole time we've been here," Anna said, pulling a quiet laugh from everyone at the table.

Sam knew it was his turn, and he paused for a moment to think over his options. "I'm thankful that my brother found someone to take care of, again, and I'm thankful that Cas is that person," he said carefully, delicately balancing each word so as not to offend anyone at the table, particularly those with macho pride.

"I'm thankful that Sammy finally started taking those estrogen hormones so he's one step closer to becoming the girl he always wanted to be," Dean snarked, but he was grinning at Sam playfully. "Your turn, Cas," Dean prompted after a quiet pause.

Castiel was just staring thoughtfully at his empty plate. After another minute, he looked up and locked his eyes on Dean's.

"I'm just thankful," he said simply, smiling softly at Dean, and Sam was sure he wasn't the only one that sensed a million unsaid words behind his statement.

Anna was the first to break the silence, and the mini staring contest that seemed to go along with it. "We'll do the washing up, since we didn't help with the cooking, and then we'll head off!" She said brightly.

"Yes," Michael drawled, "we're heading up to Anna's mother's to stay through 'til after Christmas. We should really hit the road to avoid traffic, I'd loathe to delay our arrival."

"Naturally," Dean chuckled, helping them clear the plates, anyway.

"Hey, Castiel, I'm gonna get some fresh air," Sam decided, unsure where he was going with it, "want to step outside with me for a bit?"

Castiel threw a concerned look at Dean, who merely shrugged with a look of mild curiosity on his face. "Sure, Sam, my balcony upstairs has a wonderful view, I'll show you," he pushed away from the table and lead Sam up the staircase, through the bedroom, and outside.

"Wow," Sam said as he looked over the city, the sky darkening rapidly.

"I assume you wanted to speak with me regarding any concerns you may have for your brother?" Castiel asked quietly. Sam thought he was pretty spot-on, but he still didn't know how to approach such a delicate issue.

"What concerns may I be having?" He asked casually, getting a gauge of where Castiel thought this conversation was going.

"Well, you were obviously worried about leaving him, that's why you suggested he take such a job. And I'm sure he made you aware of our rocky beginning, so you're most likely concerned we never fully got past that, and in all likeliness you don't like me very much after giving your brother such a hard time," Castiel said matter of factly.

"But you like him now?" Sam hinted.

"He is very good to me," Castiel mused, "and for one reason or another he seems to enjoy my company too. I, for one, can't get my around why he wants to spend a great deal of his time with a seventeen year old, but I appreciate his presence nevertheless."

"It's not wrong, you know," Sam offered sincerely. "A lot of people would say that it is, but it's really not wrong. If you were a bit younger and he was a bit older, it might be, but it's obvious you two are really good together. Just be careful, okay? At least until you're eighteen."

At this, Castiel looked very confused. "I know there's nothing wrong with it, a lot of people my age are in similar situations, for varying reasons. And I don't see how age makes a difference, I was a lot younger when Anna was with me."

"You were with Anna?" Sam whispered. _That_ was truly horrifying. What if the twins weren't even Michael's?

"Yes, Sam, but you knew that!" Castiel said impatiently. "I introduced her as my former nanny, remember?"

"She was just your nanny?" Sam said, feeling his head spinning as he tried to catch up.

"She was a dear friend, too," Castiel posed it as a question.

"But you were never together, right?" Sam urged.

"Oh," Castiel huffed, before cracking up with laughter. "Oh, my goodness! You thought I was romantically involved with Anna?"

"Well, considering what you've got going on with Dean!" Sam replied indignantly, but Castiel just laughed harder.

"You think Dean and I are dating?" He chortled, doubling over with laughter. Sam knew he was bitchfacing something bad, and he felt himself going sulky, too. 

"Not anymore," he replied. Now he just thought they were blind idiots, but after being laughed at by Castiel, who he figured would tell Dean so they could both laugh at him, he decided they could work out their UST by themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: After re-reading this chapter I realized that not only is it as weak as a latte, but that I'm also really bad at analogies. Having said that, I'm gonna leave it as is, because what's done is done. I promise that I'll do better next time, though, okay?


	11. A Change in Spirit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably have one to three chapters to take us up 'til the New Year (in the story's timeline, they'll be posted before the end of October, in all likelihood).
> 
> I plan on writing just past Castiel's eighteenth (mid-March 2015), so I guess we're looking around twenty chapters at this stage?

Castiel refused to acknowledge the impending arrival of Christmas until _at least_ December the first. 

He had to endure Dean berating him endlessly since... Well, practically since their meeting when the first signs of Christmas had sprouted in the stores.

Dean had wanted to invest in a tree mid-November. Not only had Castiel had to explain how utterly impractical that was, he also had to deal with a pouting Dean. For someone who never talked about his family outside of his brother, Dean was _way_ too into Christmas.

Castiel relented and told Dean they would buy and decorate a tree on the first, and until then there was to be no mentions of the holiday.

"Aren't you a little young to hate Christmas so much?" Dean asked as they walked through the pines, that cold December morning.

"It's just another day of the year my parents fail to show up," Castiel shrugged. It wasn't a lie. He'd spent the last how many years tagging along to Anna's Christmas celebrations because his parents didn't give a crap? It was always disappointing, and Castiel always had a part of him that hoped they would show up and surprise him, but of course they never did.

He knew he should know better by now, that he shouldn't care, but it still hurt like a bitch.

"But your parents would'a bought you some pretty cool stuff to make up for their absence, right?" Dean prodded, pausing to walk around one of the trees, before shaking his head disdainfully and continuing on.

"Sure," Castiel replied easily, "I particularly liked the year they gave me a car."

"No shit, you have a car?" Dean demanded, stopping to stare at Castiel. "Why haven't you introduced us?"

"I was being facetious," Castiel rolled his eyes, "I never got a damn thing from them."

He glared at Dean's sympathetic look and watched as Dean continued assessing the trees.

"So what other childhood things have you missed out on? We covered Christmas and nurturing parents, but that can't be all," Dean said, casual as anything. Castiel stared at him incredulously and Dean just shrugged, "I missed out on a lot of it too, kid."

"Oh," it was Castiel's turn to don the sympathetic expression, and he suddenly understood why Dean was always so concerned. He genuinely did know what it was like, he actually understood. "Siblings, obviously, though whether that is good or bad is debatable."

"How so?"

"Well," Castiel hesitated, "I wouldn't wish this sort of childhood on anyone, but at the same time it might've made it easier to have someone else. Someone who _knew,_ you know?"

"God, you always surprise me, Cas," Dean sighed and shook his head, pausing to peer at Castiel, "I thought you were gonna say the typical only-child thing, 'I want to know what it's like but I secretly think I'd hate them,' and then you say something like that... Sometimes I forget you're only seventeen."

Castiel pursed his lips, unsure whether that was a compliment or not, so he continued with his list, "Pets--"

"What?" Dean looked affronted and personally offended.

"I never had any pets," Castiel said slowly, rounding a tree the same height as him, "I like this one, Dean. It's even, its green but not _too_ green, and judging by the base it wasn't cut too long ago, so it should last."

"Sure, fine, _whatever_ \-- no pets? Not even a goldfish or a hamster?" It was obvious that at this stage Dean no longer cared about the tree, so Castiel signaled one of the workers over.

"We'll take this one, please," Castiel said, handing over the cash he'd withdrawn from the ATM earlier.

"Sure," the guy grunted, "you need help loading it or you want it delivered?"

"Delivered, please," Castiel replied, giving the guy his address to write down.

"It'll be there 'fore noon," the worker signaled someone over, presumedly to help him with the tree, so Castiel lead Dean back to the road and hailed a cab.

"Not even a goldfish or a hamster," Castiel confirmed, once they were settled in the warm cab and on their way home. 

* * *

On the nineteenth, Dean had told Castiel he was ducking out to do some last minute shopping, as most of the stores would be closed the following week.

"A - we live in the city; no they won't," Castiel rolled his eyes, "and b - it's not last minute 'til closing on Christmas Eve."

"Yeah, well, this place isn't open next week," Dean grumbled. He had been in a bad mood ever since Castiel's parents had called to confirm they would not be home for Christmas. He took the news worse than Castiel.

"Okay," Castiel said, placating. He wasn't used to Dean being angry, and he really didn't like it. He was considering asking Sam to reschedule his flight for earlier, so that maybe his presence could cheer Dean up.

Dean left without another word, and Castiel snuggled into the lounge, hoping Dean would be in a better mood when he got back. 

Dean wasn't gone for too long, but he had a warm smile and a large box in his arms when he stepped out of the elevator.

"Heya, Cas, I got you an early Christmas present! Thought I'd try'n cheer you up, I know the mood's been down lately, so, well, Merry Christmas!" Dean shoved the box onto Castiel's lap, who was surprised by not only the present -- which was deceptively light for its size -- but the change in Dean's mood, too.

"I... I can't believe you got me a present," Castiel huffed. He and Dean hadn't been together that long, and it's really didn't seem like that kind of deal, even if Cas had got one or two for Dean as well. He looked down from Dean's excited grin, to the box which had puncture marks all over it. 

Castiel slowly lifted the lid and -- "Holy fucking shit!" He breathed, looking down at the cutest fucking kitten he'd ever seen, fast asleep, nestled in a towel.

"Merry Christmas, Cas!" Dean repeated, beamin.

"You got me a kitten," Castiel said, unable to take his eyes off the sweet little ball of fur.

"Is-is that okay? I know for a fact you prefer cats to dogs and, I mean, you've never had a pet! And I got, like, a dozen packs of antihistamines, so my allergies won't act up. Like, I just think--"

"Dean, it's perfect," Castiel cut Dean off, finally tearing his gaze from the cat. "My parents will flip, if they ever notice it."

"Well, I kinda thought that may be part of the fun," Dean winked, and Castiel couldn't help chuckling. "So, she's litter trained, microchipped, and yours to name. But since I bought her, I get unlimited vetos, in case you wanna choose something dumb."

"Thank you so much, Dean," Castiel put the box gently on the coffee table and threw his arms around Dean. Dean had bought him a freakin' cat! Dean was allergic to cats, and he bought Castiel a cat and Castiel couldn't believe there was ever a time in his life that he didn't like Dean. 

"S'okay, kid," Dean held him briefly, before pushing him back. "Well, get on with it," he said gruffly, "size 'er up and name her and use _her_ to cuddle, not me."

Castiel rolled his eyes at Dean and the strange things that made him close off. He gently picked up the entirely white cat, who blearily opened her blue eyes and stared at him. She was still quite small and young, and he gently sat her on his lap and gently started stroking her with two fingers. A quiet purring erupted from the kitten, and she arched into Castiel's touch.

"She looks like a little angel," Castiel felt his heart melt as the kit blinked slowly up at him.

"Veto," Dean said forcefully.

"Samandriel?" Castiel suggested, scowling when Dean growled out his veto. Castiel paused, looking at the cat. He could go for a fictional cat, or even lion perhaps... Sarabi was nice, so was Nala. "She looks a bit like a Nala."

"Uh-uh, Nala was a lion. Try again." Dean shook his head, smirking.

Castiel frowned and wracked his brain. Crookshanks was a ginger, Dinah didn't suit this kitten, "Cake?"

"I prefer pie myself, s'matter of fact," Dean replied.

"No, like, Cake the cat and Fiona the human?" 

"Veto!" Dean grimaced. Then it hit him.

"You literally have to choose one of these; either are perfect, okay?" Castiel insisted. Dean nodded warily in reply. "Dutchess or Marie." The white cat and kit from _Aristocats._ Dean could surely appreciate those, right?

"Dutchess," Dean said quickly. "Marie and Mary are just..." He stopped himself and shook his head.

"Mary?" Castiel asked cautiously. An ex Dean didn't want to be reminded of, perhaps?

"My mom," Dean replied quietly, leaning over to stroke the kitten. He must've noticed that Castiel was gonna ask him something else because he said, "Dutchess is a perfect name. Once she's big enough, we'll get her a nice collar with one of those fancy tags, alright?"

"Sounds good, Dean," Castiel replied, taking the change in conversation for what it was. Dean smiled and started as his the phone began to ring loudly.

Castiel scooped Duchess up and nuzzled her soft fur as he heard Dean answer the phone.

"Oh, hey Sam!... She did?... Y-you're not coming for Christmas?" Castiel felt his heart sink at how disappointed Dean sounded. "But you already paid for your flights!... No, it's alright, I get it... No, I'm not mad, it just sucks... Yeah, love you too. Have fun with Jess, we'll talk later."

Castiel stood and walked over to Dean, who was still in the kitchen after answering the phone.

Wordlessly, Castiel handed Duchess to Dean, and Dean gratefully accepted the kit and held her close, like a child would their favorite toy when in distress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--SECONDARY BUT MOST IMPORTANT EDIT: [wingofcastiel](http://wingofcastiel.tumblr.com/) made me the amazing art work in this chapter, and it's literally the sweetest thing to ever happen to me so everyone should go follow and send all the love <3--
> 
> \--PRIMARY BUT LESS IMPORTANT EDIT: After some helpful concrit in regards to canon divergence and feline anatomy, I've fixed up a couple of flaws in this chapter. I hope this suits everyone better!--
> 
> Hope you guys like this! I think I do. I'm pretty sure I do.
> 
> How will Christmas go down, with no Anna, no parents and no Sam?
> 
> More importantly *plot hint alert* how will Boxing Day go down? (The answer is [spoiler])
> 
> Stay tuned to find out!! ;)


	12. A Change in Weather

Yeah, Dean was pretty bummed when he got that call from Sam. And, yeah, when he forgot to take another bout of antihistamines, the cat hair all over his clothes clogged his sinuses to the point of physical pain -- not a mistake he'd make again -- but all in all things weren't so bad.

Dean had suggested setting up Dutchess' litter box in Castiel's ensuite, so that if his parents ever did come home, he could simply shut his bedroom door to keep the cat in, and Mr and Mrs Novak would be none the wiser.

It was obvious that Castiel was already attached to the kitten, and Dean was secretly glad he could bring that much joy to the kid. To Cas.

Sam had always complained growing up that they never had pets. It was one shortcoming that Dean couldn't remedy, not with their constant moving, and staying in places where pets certainly weren't allowed.

As soon as Sam had moved into a stable environment in Cali, however, he'd rescued a shelter dog and never looked back.

Castiel deserved the cat, and Dean honestly didn't know any other home this damn feline would have received half as much love, if only from the pair of them.

Dean could tell Castiel was worried about him, after Sam said he wasn't coming. He really didn't need to be, though.

It sucked, that was for sure, but Dean knew this day would come eventually, and Sam wouldn't just ditch him on a holiday for any old girl. This Jess had to be somethin' special, and Dean sure couldn't wait to meet her and embarrass the shit outta his brother. He smirked at that thought.

Maybe one Christmas, Sam and Jess would invite him to their house for dinner. Would he be alone? Would he have found someone? He rolled his eyes violently; he was twenty-three, Sam was nineteen. No one was getting married and no one was dying alone.

The last couple of days until Christmas flew by, until Dean was roasting beef for dinner on Christmas Eve, with potatoes and pumpkin -- no green shit. The sky outside was dark and menacing, and after Castiel mentioned he loved the snow, Dean began to wish for it to arrive in time for Christmas.

"Need any help, Dean?" Castiel offered carefully, wandering into the kitchen with Dutchess trailing behind him enthusiastically.

"Nah, it's all set. Just gotta take it out and serve it in half an hour. I can teach you how to make some kick-ass gravy outta the fat in the pan, though, if you want," Dean offered, washing his greasy hands.

"Gross," Castiel wrinkled his nose.

"What d'ya think you're getting in the restaurants, Cas?" Dean chuckled fondly.

"I _don't_ think about it," Castiel said firmly, bending over to pick his up his kitten.

"So, what do you wanna do tonight? Any Christmas Eve traditions?"

"I have one, but you're not gonna like it," Castiel shrugged, holding Dutchess to his chest.

"Try me," Dean offered, pretty much willing to go along with whatever Cas suggested, which was new. Ish.

"I always watch _Love Actually,"_ Castiel admitted, looking down at the cat in his arms, his cheeks tinging with pink.

Dean hated how little he detested the idea of watching a movie with Hugh Grant and Collin Firth. That was enough stuttering to add an extra hour onto the film, but curling up on the couch with Cas didn't seem so bad at all.

"That's the one where Bilbo Baggins is in a porno, right?" Dean asked, checking he had the right movie in his mind.

"And Professor Snape is married to Professor Trelawney," Castiel nodded.

"And Rick Grimes is in love with Elizabeth Swan," Dean added, but Castiel just cocked his head. "Oh, right, _The Walking Dead_ is probably to scary for you," Dean smirked.

"Rude," Castiel growled, but then he laughed, so Dean wasn't too worried.

"Okay, well, let's watch _Love Actually_ after dinner," Dean decided. Worst comes to worst, he could take a shot every time Grant of Firth pissed him off.

"Seriously?" Castiel asked suspiciously.

"Look, I figure your only other tradition involves a lack of parental attendance, so, yeah. Why the hell not?" Dean shrugged and smiled sincerely.

"Alright," Castiel huffed.

And that's how Dean ended up watching a holiday themed rom-com with a seventeen year old boy he'd barely known for three months on Christmas Eve. And he was enjoying it. What even was his life?

"You gonna leave some cookies out for Santa?" Dean asked when the movie finished and Castiel announced he was going to bed. Castiel gave him a glare but didn't respond. "I wasn't being sarcastic, I just don't know what age kids these days realize that they don't get somethin' for nothin' from some stranger during the holidays."

"When you say it like that, it sounds really depressing," Castiel snorted, lifting Dutchess off his lap so he could carry her upstairs. "Goodnight, Dean. Thanks for… Being here."

"Yeah, Cas, sleep well," Dean smiled, and he waited for Castiel to disappear up the stairs before he ran to his room and got the presents that he'd bought Cas. He shoved them under the tree and flicked off all the lights before crawling into his bed.

Just as he was settling in, he saw small shadows flicking through the light outside his window. He glanced up and saw exactly what he wanted; _snow.  
_

* * *

Of all the ways Dean pictured Christmas morning going, it really did not end up how he expected it to.

First of all, he was awake absurdly early, and knew that if he bothered Castiel, he'd be in for a world of pain.

So he got up, showered, and dressed as slowly as he could, before leaving his bedroom.

He waited for as long as his excited self could stand before making breakfast, so that at least he could offer some compromise for waking Castiel up.

Finally, after the waffles were keeping warm in the oven, as was the crispy bacon, eggs, a stack of toast _and_ baked beans, he gave up waiting and blared the _Michael Bublé Christmas_ album over the speakers. Less than a minute into _Feliz Navidad,_ Castiel appeared at the top of the staircase, clutching Dutchess and actually smiling.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" Dean teased. Castiel practically skipped down the stairs to meet Dean in the kitchen.

"Not only do I wake up to the smell of food, but _Michael Bublé_ singing in Spanish?" Castiel raised an eyebrow, "Am I truly awake?"

"Yep!" Dean laughed, "And there's presents too. Food'll keep if you want to open them first."

"You bought me more than a cat?" Castiel asked, looking highly surprised.

"'Course," Dean snorted, "get with the program, Cas."

Castiel blinked and shoved Dutchess into Dean's arms before tearing back upstairs. "Cas?"

"Just a sec!" Castiel shouted back. Dean raised Dutchess up to eye level and looked her in the eye.

"You know what that was about?" He asked the cat, who just blinked dolefully back at him.

Castiel popped out of his room again, a stack of carefully wrapped presents in his arms,

"Dude," Dean chastised, "the hell is this?"

"Couldn't help myself," Castiel muttered, carefully putting them beneath the tree. "S'not a big deal."

"Okay," Dean agreed doubtfully. Then again, he was being slightly hypocritical. He saw Castiel looking at the presents Dean had put there.

"You-you wrapped my gifts in pages from a porno?" Castiel looked scandalized.

"Yeah," Dean sighed, "bit of a wrench giving it to you, but I've looked at 'em over a hundred times. It's my way of indirectly gifting you porn, 'cause you're underage and all."

"Dean, you are completely ridiculous!" Castiel mumbled, blushing furiously. His reaction was honestly worth it.

"C'mon, Cas, let's open some presents!" Dean grinned, bouncing over to the tree and sitting cross-legged on the cold tile beside it.

"Okay," Castiel agreed, "Merry Christmas," he said, handing Dean a large square package. Dean tore the paper, and at least a dozen packets of antihistamines fell out. Dean couldn't help the full belly laugh he let out.

He put his hand on Castiel's shoulder and said, "Never change, Cas."

Cas looked overly pleased with himself, so Dean handed him a small rectangular package and waited for Castiel's reaction.

Castiel began to tear carelessly at the paper, "Woah, dude, treat these lovely ladies with some respect!" and he sighed exasperatedly at Dean, however he did pick the paper apart carefully, and pulled a book out.

"Dean Winchester, you are an asshole," Castiel glared at his pristine new copy of _The Shining._

"Merry Christmas, Cas!" Dean laughed.

After they got their silly presents out of the way, Dean received a freakin' _Rolex,_ some fancy hot chocolate that he liked more than he cared to admit, and a gift voucher for one of the chain liquor stores, because Castiel couldn't actually buy him alcohol.

In return, he gave Castiel a tacky red, white, and green striped Christmas sweater that had eight-bit reindeer, stars, gingerbread men and bells knitted into the pattern. Castiel had immediately pulled it over his head and nestled into it, smiling contentedly. Dean had also bought him a couple of classic books Castiel mentioned wanting -- _Orwell, Fitzgerald,_ and _Conan Doyle_ among others -- and multitude of chocolate because even though he liked it, Castiel always refused to buy it when they did the groceries.

Castiel, much to Dean's endearment, had purchased and wrapped some cat toys for Dutchess. Castiel had wrapped them loosely in tissue paper, correctly assuming the kitten would have more fun destroying the paper than playing with the various bells and mice and balls that were the gifts themselves.

They piled their plates full of food, Bublé still crooning in the background, and watched in amusement as the kitten played through the various forms of wrapping paper, until she got started on the porn and Dean had to chastise Castiel for just leaving it lying around.

"I wasn't aware you were being serious when you said you were indirectly gifting me porn," Castiel said with raised eyebrows.

"Just take it upstairs, Cas," Dean grumbled; as if he'd ruin his skin mags for no reason!

Castiel did as he was told and Dean began clearing up after breakfast, thinking how it was too early in the day to be feeling this uncomfortably full.

Castiel returned downstairs, voicing a similar sentiment.

"We just need to sack up, Cas!" Dean said firmly. "We've got a whole day of eating ahead of us and damnit if every ounce of food isn't going to be consumed!"

Castiel nodded wearily and sought refuge on the couch, Dean joining him without bothering with the dishes. That was Boxing Day's problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few people had some notices about the previous chapter. I hope this one was more acceptable :~)
> 
> (And yes, I was listening to Michael Bublé's Christmas album whilst writing this, even though it's not yet November. He's the only exception to the nonsense that's been going on since September!)


	13. A Change in Temperature

"Find the least Christmassy movie I own and that's what we'll watch," Castiel suggested, settling into the couch after consuming the huge lunch that he and Dean had prepared.

He was staring absently at the snow falling outside of the window and could feel himself smiling. He really did love the snow.

"Cas, this is the one time'a year we get to watch those movies. I ain't giving that up because you're all _bah-humbug,"_ Dean said firmly, looking through the DVDs.

"What about something with a very vague Christmas theme? Or something with Christmas shown in passing? Like _Mean Girls._ It has a brief Christmas section," Castiel specified what he wanted. Despite the genuinely nice day he was having with Dean, but he didn't want the faux cheer of others shoved in his face.

"Absolutely not. I might have sat through your ridiculous Brit rom-com last night, but I refuse to sit through Regina George," Dean appeared in front of Castiel, crossing his arms. Castiel widened his eyes and stared up at Dean from beneath his lashes. "No means no, Cas. Puppy dog face or not."

"Fine," Castiel huffed, "can we go to the duck pond, then? I haven't been there in months and it's Christmas. The ducks deserve some bread."

"You go to the duck pond?" Dean asked incredulously, and Castiel suddenly felt self-conscious. It hadn't been weird with Anna. He'd been nine the first time he'd gone with her, and it just continued through the years, it was something he enjoyed and never tired of.

"Yes." He said defiantly.

"Okay," Dean nodded. "Let's go. Make sure you rug up."

Castiel stared at Dean suspiciously for a moment before going upstairs to grab his trench coat and scarf. He wouldn't bother with gloves if he was going to be feeding the ducks. His pockets would do.

Back downstairs, he saw Dean in a large overcoat and a dark beanie, a thick scarf wrapped around his neck and half a loaf of sliced bread in his hands.

"You gonna be warm enough, Cas? It's snowing," Dean warned, shooting a glance out the window.

"We're not gonna be out there for hours, Dean," Castiel pouted.

"If you get sick, I ain't takin' care of ya," Dean warned, pressing the elevator button.

"Yeah, you will," Castiel smirked. Dean looked at him, long and hard, before sighing.

"Yeah, I will," he admitted, "but I'd prefer if you were in full health for your parents' arrival tomorrow."

"Don't know what difference if would make," Castiel replied quietly as they stepped into the elevator. Dean didn't respond, but that was okay.

They walked through the deserted streets, tiny snowflakes falling lightly on the pair of them.

When they got to the duck pond, the very edge of the water had the first signs of frost, but the ducks were still flapping around on the water, or huddled together on the shore.

Dean silently held out the bread, and Castiel hesitated before taking it. Dean probably thought this was weird, and childish, and lame. Castiel had dragged him out, on Christmas Day, in the snow, to feed some dumb ducks.

"Sorry," he huffed as he took the bread from Dean.

"Why're you sorry, Cas?"

Castiel didn't answer until he had picked apart four whole slices of bread, tossing the chunks to the ducks. He couldn't see any fish in the water, he wondered if they'd literally died of the cold.

"Probably not how you anticipated spending your Christmas," Castiel murmured, tossing larger pieces of bread, as the cold was beginning to get to him.

"Not exactly," Dean admitted, before quickly adding, "but I'm really enjoying it. I'm actually glad it was just you an' me."

"Sure," Castiel muttered, throwing the last piece of bread and shoving his hands in his pockets. He looked at the ice, the snow blanketing the trees and ground around him. Winter really was beautiful.

"Hey," Dean said gently, placing his hand on Castiel's shoulder and moving to stand in front of him, "I really am, okay Cas? When have I ever lied to you?"

That threw Castiel a little as he searched his memory. Dean was the most honest person in his life, even if it were occasionally brutally so. He looked into Dean's green eyes, a mere faded grey in the light and weather, and noticed that he was almost the same height as Dean now. He'd grown even in the last three months.

"You've never lied to me," Castiel breathed, wincing at how surprised he sounded.

"See?" Dean smiled, moving his hand to tug on Castiel's sleeve, "Now let's get home and watch _Mean Girl_ s or what the hell ever."

"Really?" Castiel asked, feeling his lips tugging into a smile.

"Yes, you dork, really."

They hurried home and Dean made some of his hot chocolate for the both of them as Castiel set up the movie, and then they huddled on the couch, sitting much closer than normal to preserve warmth.

"Do you want me to turn the heater on?" Dean asked, shivering.

"No," Castiel sighed, "it's such a waste of energy. All you have to do is dress warmly."

He wasn't so cold because he had a very warm kitten nestled on his lap, but he still pulled the throw off the back of the lounge and tucked it around Dean and himself.

"Thanks," Dean said, snuggling into the blanket and pressing closer to Castiel.

Five minutes later, Dean was still stiffly shivering beside him and he felt bad, so he shifted Dutchess onto Dean's lap.

"Oh, Cas, is that your pussy or are you just happy to see me?" Dean grinned, wiggling his eyebrows as Castiel slipped out from under the blanket to turn the heat on. That question almost made Cas reconsider his obligation to Dean.

"That doesn't even make sense," he grumbled, using the wall-computer to program the heat.

"Doesn't matter, I still made you blush," Dean said factually, focusing on the movie. Castiel ignored that comment as he reclaimed his spot next to Dean, curling up under the warm blanket.

The pair spent the rest of the afternoon watching movies and drifting in and out of sleep, slumping against each other, spreading out at either end of the couch and, somehow, once it was fully dark, wrapped in each other's arms.

Castiel awakened from his slumber during the credits of _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_ \-- "It doesn't have a single thing to do with Christmas!", "What do you think they're celebrating when Harry gets the Cloak of Invisibility, huh, Dean?" -- and glanced up at Dean. His head was leant back against the couch, neck at a funny angle, and his mouth slightly agape.

Castiel huffed a silent chuckle and shrugged out of Dean's arms, wrapping the blanket snugly around Dean before picking Dutchess up and retiring to his bedroom.

He glanced at the 'wrapping paper' and decided to put Dutchess in the bathroom, picking up the porn as he walked back to his bed.

He climbed into the warm sheets -- out of all of the wealth in his family and the valuable things in his home, the electric blanket was his favorite -- and slipped a hand into his boxers, loosely curling around his dick as he shifted through the images of the women.

Sure, they were attractive, objectively, but…

Yeah, some of them had nice boobs, but wouldn't they get in the way a bit? And their skin, their curves looked unnaturally soft… The long hair, now that would surely be an inconvenience, hot and bothersome. And they were all wearing horrible make-up that would surely end up running with sweat -- if they were putting the right amount of effort in.

Castiel was looking a pictures of all these attractive women and… Nothing. No arousal. He was almost completely soft in his hand. He sighed, shoving the pages under his pillow and went to the bathroom to let Dutchess out, who had a tendency to crave body-warmth on the particularly cold nights -- all of them had been cold, since she'd arrived. 

He climbed back into bed and switched the lights off, reflecting on the nice day he had with Dean, and dreading his parent's return the following day.

A soft thump on the bed signified Dutchess had joined him, and he felt, rather than saw or heard, her walking alongside his body before she settled on his pillow, soft and purring against his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mm, well, if this is 13 (sorry about how short it was, by the way), and Boxing Day (a big'un [plot-wise, at least]) is 14... 15 should take us up to midnight on New Years, so, I'm definitely thinking 20 chapters is my end game. Thereabouts. Don't quote me. Continue to enjoy, comment, kudo, I'll be the first to admit that while I pretend to post my works for me I actually seek approval, which is why I get the warm and fuzzies when you guys leave me cute comments :~)


	14. A Change in Familial Content

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was difficult to find the motivation to begin, and then to power through. Happy weekend, y'all!
> 
> (How good was _Soul Survivor_ though?! I sat in shock for twenty minutes after it finished, trying to sort through my emotions[a regular occurrence after watching an episode for the first time]. I was a little surprised that they [SPOILER] so early in the season, but whatevs. Also, _AGE OF ULTRON!!!!!!_ n_n)

Dean was alone and cold when he awoke, his neck was at a funny angle and his head was fuzzy. He slowly pulled himself into a standing position and glanced around the dark room. The throw was pooled around his feet, so he tossed it over the back of the couch and turned the lights on, before moving to the kitchen.

If the Novaks were going to be home tomorrow, he figured he ought to get started on the cleaning.

Washing the dishes and tidying the kitchen took the better part of an hour, and he was officially exhausted when he was done.

He went to his bedroom and stripped, taking a quick, hot shower before shrugging into some sweats and climbing into bed.

He fell asleep, his stomach a pool of nerves, worrying how Castiel's parents' presence would impact the teen.

He hoped, in vain, that it wouldn't.

* * *

 

Dean had actually set his alarm clock so that he was up and dressed at a reasonable hour, poking and prodding Castiel until he was in a similar way.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Castiel said petulantly as Dean served him some leftover Christmas food for breakfast, "I saw them at the end of November, and they'll be in the Bahamas in a day or two. Why bother changing the way things are run for that short amount of time? It's unnecessary and they're irrelevant."

"Did I ever tell you that you should be a lawyer? Because you're good at arguing and you're full of shit," Dean said casually, digging into his own breakfast.

"Rude," Castiel pouted. "When are they arriving?"

Dean glanced at the clock, "Should be here within the hour, Cas."

"Great."

Maybe it was the imminent arrival of his parents, maybe he didn't sleep well, or maybe he was pissed off about locking Dutchess upstairs, but something had Castiel in a worse mood than usual, and Dean was nervous himself.

"It'll be okay," Dean said, reassuring both Castiel and himself.

"Uh-huh," Castiel replied doubtfully.

After breakfast, Castiel slipped off to his room, leaving Dean to continue nit-picking over the state of the apartment and becoming increasingly aware of the fact that the next couple of days would be the longest time he -- and probably Cas, too -- would be exposed to Mr and Mrs Novak.

"Cas, get your ass down here," Dean said over the intercom, within five minutes of when his parents were due.

Castiel appeared at the top of the staircase and meandered down grumpily. Dean noticed he was dressed a little nicer than his usual casual attire, he was wearing a freakin' tie!

Castiel must have noticed Dean was staring, because he shrugged and said, "It's not a big deal, I have to wear a tie for school, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember, I just," Dean wasn't sure what he 'just' but luckily he didn't have to continue that thought, as the elevator dinged and out spilled Mr and Mrs Novak.

"Castiel, darling," Mrs Novak drawled slipping a cool smile on her face that gave Dean chills. Mr Novak just silently nodded at his son.

"Hello mother, father," Castiel said evenly.

"We're awfully jet-lagged--"

"That'll happen when you abandon your son to globe-trot," Dean heard Castiel whisper, but Mrs Novak didn't seem to hear.

"So we only really stopped in to say hello; we're going to catch up on some much needed sleep," she turned to Dean and eyed him suspiciously. "David."

"Ma'am," he nodded in reply, doubting correcting her would imprint his name in her memory, anyway.

"Actually," Mr Novak began, placing his hand on Mrs Novak's waist, "you go downstairs, dear, I'd like to have a chat to Castiel and Dave."

Dean glanced sideways at Cas, who caught his eye, looking like a deer in headlights. Mrs Novak nodded briskly, and left without another word.

Mr Novak moved to sit in the lone arm chair in the lounge room and Dean and Castiel sat hesitantly, side by side, on the couch.

"I trust my son has been good for you, Dave? Anna, our previous help, had no issues," Mr Novak stated it, even if he posed it as a question.

"Oh, yeah, uh, Cas is great," Dean shrugged, "no problems. He's been doing well in school, you know? Straight A student and all that," Dean smiled proudly at Castiel, who blushed. Dean didn't miss the approval-seeking glance Castiel shot his father.

"Mm. Have you started applying for college, boy?" He looked at Castiel sharply.

"Y-yes, of course, sir," Castiel replied.

"Good, I--" Mr Novak's words cut off suddenly, and he sat stock still, his face turning red.

"Mr Novak?" Dean asked carefully, half moving off the couch.

Mr Novak clapped his hand to his chest and started jerking violently, shaking so hard he slipped straight out of his chair and onto the floor.

"Shit!" Dean huffed, "Cas, 911, _now!"_ Dean yelled, diving to Mr Novak and rolling him onto his back. He had stopped spasming and was now lying still, his eyes closed. Dean checked his airways -- clear. Breathing -- nope. He could hear Castiel on the phone, his voice shaky as he gave directions.

Dean pulled himself together and started compressions, because there was no way he was letting Cas do that. He pushed down in the centre of Mr Novak's chest and heard the crunch of bones. _One, two, three… Twenty-nine, thirty, and two breaths. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat._

Dean was confused as he was pulled away by -- oh, medical professionals. Shit, they got here quickly.

He tuned out as they loaded Mr Novak on the gurney, he thought he saw Mrs Novak somewhere, and there was a lot of white noise.

Some guy he barely knew -- Castiel's father, who Castiel barely knew -- had a stroke or a heart attack or an epileptic fucking fit or something right there in front of him and Dean had to do something and suddenly he felt exhausted. Maybe the ambulance took longer than he first suspected.

He wasn't sure how long he was unfocused for, but a sharp slap across his face from Castiel brought him back.

"They wouldn't let me in the ambulance, will you come in a cab with me?" Castiel asked stiffly.

Dean nodded and then they were in the elevator, the cab, the hospital waiting room.

"He's in surgery," Mrs Novak said to Cas when they got there, and she then turned to Dean, "You might have saved his life, Derek."

"Sure," Dean replied, slumping into a chair, and tugging Castiel down in the one next to him.

Castiel didn't look too bad, considering how Dean felt.

That was when Dean realized he needed to pull himself together.

"Cas? How you holdin' up, buddy?"

Castiel looked at him with a frown, "I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You just saw your father… Whatever. Look, I know--"

"Dean, really, I'm okay," Castiel said impatiently, sounding like he meant it, "you're the one who had to do CPR and -- jesus you're shaking! Shit, Dean!"

Dean looked down at his hands lying loosely in his lap, trembling. So much for pulling himself together.

"Okay, let's go get a coffee or something while we wait," Dean threw a glance to Mrs Novak, who was chatting on the phone, easy as you please, as though her husband weren't in surgery, possibly dying.

"Sure," Castiel agreed. Dean tried to find some hint of emotion in Cas' face, his attitude, his goddamned gait, but there was nothing but surprising calmness.

"What are you thinking about?" Dean asked as they entered the cafeteria.

"I'm wondering if they have tapioca pudding," Castiel said, craning his neck to have a look. Dean raised an eyebrow, but went along with it. Maybe this was Castiel's coping mechanism… Or something.

Back in the waiting room, Mrs Novak was nowhere to be found.

"She probably got kicked out for talking on the phone," Castiel shrugged, contentedly eating his pudding cup. Dean eyed him warily and took a seat, prepared to wait for however long it might take for Castiel to break.

They sat in a tense silence for nearly twenty minutes, when a very sombre Mrs Novak, accompanied by a doctor, walked into the waiting room.

"Oh, Castiel," Mrs Novak said to her son, placing her hands on his shoulders, "your father didn't make it, honey."

Dean didn't know why he was surprised she said it so calmly, why she didn't offer Castiel any support, but when she turned away to talk to the doctor, he found himself furious at her, and at the dearly departed too.

"Fuck," he huffed, wrapping an arm around Cas and steering him away from where his mother and his father's doctor were discussing the complications during the surgery. Castiel blinked up at Dean, his face impassive as ever.

"He's gone?"

"I'm sorry, Cas," Dean said, wrapping his arms around Cas and holding him tightly as soon as they were out of earshot. Dean felt Castiel's arms hesitantly wrap around him and Cas buried his face in Dean's neck. "Shit, Cas, I'm so sorry, I should -- I should have tried harder, maybe I wasn't doing the CPR properly, I--"

"Dean," Castiel pushed away from Dean, astoundingly dry-eyed, "don't you dare do that. There is no way this is your fault. I don't know what happened to him, but once he was in the care of the medical professionals, it was up to _them_ to save him. He was alive when he got it that ambulance, it was not your fault. It _never_ could have been your fault. _Do you hear me?"_

Castiel looked angry, not 'I just lost my father' angry, but something equally intimidating. Dean just nodded his head and let Castiel pull him in for another hug.

"You should probably go be with your mother," Dean whispered, not wanting to let Castiel go to that cold bitch.

"She's okay," Castiel shrugged, stepping back again, "it's time to plan a party; she'll be in her element."

"Cas…"

"What? A funeral is just a depressing party," Castiel sighed. "Can we go? You woke me up really early and I'd kinda like a nap."

"I dunno if that's such a good idea," Dean said, remembering that when his father died, at first he'd spent a lot of time sleeping, slipping into the darkness, "we can go home, but we'll watch a movie, or play with Dutchess or something, okay?"

Castiel peered at him curiously, but nodded and said, "Okay, we can watch a movie. Just not _The Lion King._ It's too soon," he joked. Dean pursed his lips and nodded tersely, gently taking Castiel's hand and leading him out of the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel as though the quality of the story is slipping, but I promise it will pick back up! These last few chapters have had difficult content for me to write, but I know what I'm doing for the next few, so hopefully they'll be better!


	15. A Change in Knowledge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is officially the longest chapter we've had in a while... And it officially pushes the story over the 30k word mark, making this my longest story by more than double!!! Enjoy...

The week between Christmas and New Years was difficult for Castiel.

He kind of wanted to kill Dean because he just would not leave him alone. Every single morning he forced Castiel out of bed, forced him to shower and dress and feed Dutchess and feed himself, all the while sending Castiel sympathetic and worried looks.

Castiel went along with it because it seemed to make Dean feel better, even, if anything, it just made Castiel feel worse.

As the week wore on, Castiel grew increasingly frustrated at the way Dean was treating him like he was made of glass, but what set Castiel off was a simple enough conversation on New Year's Eve.

"So what are we doing tonight?" Dean asked Castiel, who was holding Dutchess close as they watched some form of documentary on cable. His mother had gone to stay with his aunt until the funeral, in the New Year, so that kind of made things easier on Castiel.

 _"We_ aren't doing anything. _I'm_ going to order a pizza and eat the whole damn thing without getting off this couch once, and  _you're_ going to go out and be with people your own age, and you're gonna kiss a pretty girl -- or, like, some buff dude, I don't know what you're into -- at midnight, by which time I'll be fast asleep," Castiel said as he stroked Dutchess, the cat purring contentedly in his lap.

"Nah, see, that doesn't work for me. You're going through some tough stuff, and it's my job to take care of you, so I'm gonna keep trying to do that because you obviously aren't coping properly," Dean replied quietly.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Castiel snapped. "I don't know how many time I'm going to have to tell you, how many times I have to prove to you that  _I am fine."_

"You're not fine, Cas, your father died and you're not dealing with it. You don't talk about it, you won't show any damn emotion, hell, you don't have to be sad; the guy was a prick! Be angry, be relieved, be  _something!"_ Dean said hotly, turning to face Cas, lifting on leg onto the lounge to stare at him.

"Don't you  _dare_ tell me how to cope with my father's death, and don't treat me like I don't know how to take care of myself! Right from the very beginning, I told you I could, but all you do is baby me and walk on eggshells around me and I'm sick of it, Dean! I'm sick you you always being around! Why the hell do you never leave? Are you that pathetic that your only friend is a seventeen year old?" Castiel demanded. Hurt flashed over Dean's face, and Castiel knew that was harsh and completely irrelevant, and he ran his fingers through his hair, immediately feeling guilty. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that last part. Just -- just get the fuck out, alright? For once in your life, just go out and have a good time, and forget about the shitty kid that you babysit 'round the clock."

Castiel watched as Dean clenched his jaw and nodded. "Right," he huffed and stood, sparing Castiel one last glance before storming out.

_Ah, fuck._

* * *

Cas felt royally shitty. Yeah, Dean had been a little overbearing over the last week, but he was only trying to help. He didn't need Castiel cursing him out and calling him pathetic and --  _Oh._

Castiel realized that if it had come to all that, he really _wasn't_ coping.

He'd pushed Dean away.

Sweet, caring Dean who put up with all of Castiel's shit until tonight because Castiel just pushed too hard.

Castiel could understand why Dean left, his mood swings were starting to give himself a headache.

He raised his hand to rub at his itchy eye and felt wetness. "Ah, shit."

He hadn't left his spot on the couch since Dean left three hours ago, but darkness had settled thick and suffocating, and Dutchess had trotted off during all the yelling.

He wished he could call Dean and apologize, but he didn't know Dean's number. After three months, he didn't even know if Dean had a cell phone.

There was so much he still didn't know about Dean, and he'd gone and fucked up and Dean probably hated him now. He hated himself.

He felt silent tears rolling down his cheeks and wished he could've just appreciated Dean and accepted his help, instead of chucking a bitch fit. Dean knew what he was doing, he wouldn't have hung around with Castiel on New Years if that wasn't exactly what he wanted to do, dead father or not. He was Dean Winchester; he did what he wanted.

Castiel wiped his face and sat up, briefly considering going to find Dean, but the city was too big, and he had no idea... He could start at Dean's apartment... Surely someone knew this 'Jo' who 'owned a bar', right?

Castiel genuinely thought his heart may have stopped beating at he heard the elevator ding. He jumped up and ran through the apartment and launched himself into Dean's arms.

"Feeling better, are we?" Dean sounded amused, but there was genuine concern and a bit of anger there too.

"I'm s-sorry Dean," Castiel choked, burying his face in Dean's neck and holding him close. "I'm the biggest asshole in the world and I'm so sorry, please forgive me. Please don't leave me."

"Not gonna leave you, Cas, and I know you're hurtin' but I'm not gonna have you talk to me like that, alright?" Dean said, letting Cas melt into him.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I really do appreciate you, Dean."

"I know ya do," Dean said gruffly. "I haven't exactly been treatin' you fair either. You're almost a man, and you can deal with stuff however you want. I just didn't want you makin' the same mistakes I did when my old man died."

Castiel pulled away with a sniff, "W-will you tell me about it?" He asked hesitantly.

"Guess now's as good'a time as any," Dean shrugged and led Castiel over to the lounge. Castiel wasn't quite ready to give up the physical contact between himself and Dean, so he curled up right next to Dean, who wrapped his arm around Cas in return.

"Dad kinda... He wasn't right after mom died. She was the love of his life, you know? Even if he didn't always treat her that way..." Dean took a deep breath and Castiel placed a hand on his chest, in what he hoped was a comforting, a supportive gesture. "Yeah, so, he blamed me and Sam, I think. Sam more than me, 'cause his nursery was where the fire started. He gave him a pretty rough time growin' up; me too I s'pose. And he was never around. The only time he was actually with me 'n Sammy was when he was draggin' us across the country to live somewhere new for 'round a month at the most, for one reason or another.

"I did what I could, picked up the slack where I could for Sam's sake. There were a couple'a nights I went hungry because whatever minimum-wage job I'd somehow managed to pick up just didn't pay enough for Sam's new sneakers or a haircut as well as a decent meal. As Sam got older, dad got physical. I managed to break up a couple of fights, but they weren't really even fights; just dad beatin' the shit outta Sam, sometimes takin' a swing at me.

"I finished school with an attendance rate of twenty-nine percent a few months after my eighteenth, so I picked Sam up and moved to a family friend's in South Dakota. We settled down well enough, I got a job at the auto-shop while Sam continued with school. Then our dad showed up." 

Castiel looked up at Dean, who's expression had darkened considerably. Castiel felt his heart breaking for Dean. He had a feeling the worst was yet to come.

"He threw all sorts of threats around, pulled a knife on Bobby -- the family friend. Said he didn't give a fuck about me, if I was gonna be an ungrateful piece of shit I could stay, but he was takin' Sam because he was still a child and still his responsibility. Sam was just fourteen, he was so scared and he went with dad. Me and Bobby went after them, not sure where they were headed. Called the sheriff, Ms Jody Mills. Got a call back about a half hour later, found dad's car in a ditch, wrapped around the front of a truck.

"Sam was fine, in time, but dad didn't make it. I can't imagine what he must'a said to Sammy as he was drivin', but my last memory of him was him callin' me a piece'a shit and takin' my baby brother away from me," Castiel had noticed Dean's arms gradually tightening around his torso, Dean's hand clenching on his shoulder. Dean must've noticed too, because he gently patted Castiel's shoulder, smoothing the creases on his sleeve. "Sorry," he muttered. "Anyway, I kinda closed off. My dad had always kinda been a jerk, but I always excused him, as long as I could keep Sam safe and fed, nothing dad did mattered. After he died I realized that it all mattered and I just... I lost whatever small amount of faith I had left in him."

"I spent a lot of time in bed, Bobby took care enough of Sam. I drank. I wasn't old enough, but I did anyway. Bobby had a big enough collection he wouldn't notice a few bottles missing. Then, one day, I got outta bed, took dad's car to the auto-shop and begged 'em to let me use their space to fix her up. It was a pathetic, mundane excuse for a distraction, but hell if it didn't work. They gave me my job back, I saved up enough, moved here with Sam so I could get him into a decent school to help get him into a good college. I worked every hour I could, had a ton of money saved, and Sam got a scholarship, and he left, and I didn't have anything to do.

"And, well... Here I am," Dean finished, giving Castiel a squeeze.

"Wow, Dean," Castiel breathed, nuzzling into his chest, "that is very shitty."

Dean let out a bark of laughter and shook his head, "Guess so, but look where I am now."

"I suppose," Castiel said doubtfully.

"Your turn," Dean said gently.

"That wasn't apart of the deal," Castiel mumbled, yawning.

"I know," Dean whispered, "it's okay. We don't have to go there. Why don't we just get you to bed, hm?"

Castiel nodded absently and allowed Dean to man-handle him off the couch and upstairs.

Dean turned to leave, but Castiel whispered, "Please stay."

He watched Dean hesitate in the doorway, before nodding, "I'll be right back, Cas, I'll just get some sweats, okay?"

"Yeah," Cas breathed, stripping and changing into his bed clothes while Dean was gone. He was just crawling into bed as Dean reappeared, and walked hesitantly over to the bed.

Dean climbed onto the wide, high mattress and settled under the blankets on his side. Castiel rolled over to face him.

"I spent my whole life hating my father, despising him because he was never there," Castiel began carefully, ignoring the lump in his throat, "but now... Now he _really_ isn't here and he never will be again. I'm never gonna be good enough for him, he'll never see me amount to anything, I'll never fix things with him. And I feel so guilty because I never actually wanted him around. His presence never caused me anything but stress and I was never good enough. I didn't want him around, but not like this. Never like this," Castiel finished in a whisper, his eyes prickling.

Dean didn't say anything, he just pulled Castiel into his arms, and the pair lay like that in silence.

Eventually, Castiel calmed down enough to begin to drift to sleep.

He was on the edge of consciousness when he heard an apartment from somewhere below them erupt in cheers. He felt Dean press a warm kiss to his forehead, and heard him murmur, "Happy fucking New Year, baby."


	16. [It Goddamn Better Not Be] A Change of Heart: Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mildly excessive use of the 'f-word'. Still not sure if 20 really is the final number.

Dean really wasn't entirely sure what woke him, all he knew was that there was a very brief moment of indignation at being the little spoon. Then he realized how long it had been since he'd been held, and began to relish the contact.

He liked the strong arms around his waist, the warm body pressed against his back, and Jesus, the hard dick at his ass reminding him just how long it had been since he'd been pounded into the --

His eyes snapped open as he realized that the hard dick pressed snugly against his ass didn't belong to a guy he'd picked up the night before but, in fact, belonged to the seventeen year old boy in his care.

Dean took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to think of a way that this could end well for everyone involved.

From memory, Cas was a pretty heavy sleeper, so if Dean could just --

He tried to carefully shift out of Castiel's arms without causing too much of a disturbance, but apparently he gave Cas too much credit as the teen moaned and sleepily blinked himself awake.

Dean sat stock still as he waited for Castiel to realize he was hard and, oh, God this was gonna be bad.

"Please don't freak out!" He begged as mortification washed over Castiel's face.

"Oh my fucking God," Castiel whimpered, rolling over and shoving his face into his pillow. Dean opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, trying to say something, _anything._

"Um, calm down, Cas," is what somehow worked its way out of his mouth.

 _"Calm down?"_ He heard Castiel say hysterically into the pillow.

"Yeah, it's, uh, it's no big deal, okay?" Dean nodded to himself. He remembered being a teenager. A virgin.

Castiel peeked meekly up at Dean and whispered, "I am so sorry, Dean, I--"

"No, look, you don't have to say anything, okay?" Dean said soothingly, getting a better grasp on the situation. "You're a teenager. You were asleep, and you were pressed up against a warm body. This stuff happens, alright? It's honestly not a big deal," he climbed off the bed and rubbed his arm awkwardly. "Why don't you go take a shower and I'll make us some breakfast, huh?"

Castiel just nodded and shoved his face back into the pillow.

Dean fled the bedroom and headed downstairs. He could still feel the warmth from Castiel all down his back, could still feel the phantom press of Castiel's -- decently fucking sized, thank you very much! -- cock against his ass. _Ah, fuck._

Worst part was -- well, maybe not the worst part, the whole thing was pretty damn weird -- Dean could feel himself chubbing up in his boxers.

Dean firmly pushed any and all thoughts from his mind as he got started on breakfast. Today would be the day he learned and perfected poaching eggs. That shit took concentration. No stray thoughts of teenage boys allowed.

The first egg was a disaster, and Dean had to tip the boiled water out and start again.

The second one wasn't much better.

On the third try, he pedantically spun the mini whirlpool until his hand cramped before slipping the egg into the water and, by some miracle of God, it held.

He let it sit for a few minutes before placing it on a plate with paper towel, and went to make the second. It held, too, so Dean threw on some bacon and toast.

Just as Dean slipped the final egg into the water, he heard Castiel clear his throat from behind him.

He spun around in surprise and saw Castiel flushed -- from the shower? Guilt? Embarrassment? -- and looking at the ground, his arms crossed tightly in front of his chest in an obvious display of introverted discomfort. His hair was wet and messy and Dean accidentally found himself mesmerized by a droplet of water that fell from one of the spikes and slowly ran down Castiel's neck. _Ah, fuck._

"Feelin' better, Cas?" Dean asked with a suave grin, because he was decidedly feeling about ten times worse.

"Y-yeah," Castiel muttered, glancing up at Dean hesitantly. "I'm really sorry. I swear I'm not a pervert."

"Sure, sure, Cas," Dean chuckled. "You've been wantin' a piece'a this since you saw me naked that one time." Because poking fun at Cas was way easier than trying to decipher how Dean's body and mind was reacting to Castiel all of a sudden.

"Yes. You are completely irresistible. My apologies for my obvious pursuit," Castiel replied dryly.

Dean nodded absently as he served up his and Castiel's breakfast. Was it just all of a sudden?

_Nope, bad thoughts, bad track to follow, let's go back to food._

"Poached eggs," he said proudly, handing Castiel the warm plate.

"Awesome," Castiel smiled slightly, "it's my favorite way to eat them."

"I'm pretty sure I cooked them the right amount of time for them to still be soft," Dean said for lack of anything better.

"Great. Love the yolk," Castiel nodded.

Boy, this was awkward.

They ate in a tense silence for a few minutes, before Dutchess wandered into the kitchen and leapt onto the island.

"Yeah, you're gonna need to train that thing, Cas," Dean said, gently pushing the cat off the counter. Dutchess landed gracefully on her feet with a light thud and glared up at Dean. "That's disgusting, she can't be all up in the food prep areas with her litter-y paws!"

"Yes, Dean," Castiel rolled his eyes. There was a pause filled with loaded silence.

"So, your eighteenth is comin' up soon," and Dean wanted to swallow the words back up because _seriously?_ That's what he decided to bring up after the morning's shenanigans? "Got any ideas on what you want to do to celebrate?" Dean cringed, and, yeah, he should definitely stop talking, _forever_.

"Ugh, March is literally _months_ away," Castiel said, thankfully not following Dean's unfortunate train of thought. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Dean liked the way Cas said 'we'. It held all sorts of implications that made Dean feel warm and fuzzy and _creepy, oh fuck, oh fuck._

"Maybe it _is_ a little too early to start plannin'," Dean shrugged, trying to roll these thoughts out of his body with the movement. "'Lot can happen between now and then."

Castiel peered at Dean curiously and Dean _just_ heard it. He cursed inwardly and shoved some food in his mouth to stop himself from speaking, and accidentally and unintentionally creeping on Castiel.

"Got any resolutions?" Castiel asked quietly, picking at his own breakfast.

"I don't really believe in making promises just because it's the New Year, especially when you know damn well you'll have forgotten or ignored them by Valentine's Day," Dean sighed.

"Aren't you just a little ray of sunshine?" Castiel deadpanned.

"Alright, alright, you want me to make some resolutions?" Dean asked and watched as Castiel nodded.

_One - Figure what the fuck is going on in regards to what the fuck ever I'm feeling towards Cas._

_Two - Stop what the fuck ever I'm feeling towards Cas._

_Three - Go out and get laid._

Dean paused, bumped number three to the top of the list, and sighed as he realized he couldn't say this shit aloud.

"Go and visit my Baby would be one," Dean decided.

"Y-you're a father?" Castiel demanded, looking highly offended.

"No way, Baby is my car!" Dean clarified. Castiel gave him the stink-eye, but deflated.

"I was gonna kick your ass if you were here with me instead of taking care of your child," he said cooly.

"I know you would have," Dean said, before muttering, _"tried."_

"So, Baby is your car? Where is it?" Castiel asked, rolling his eyes.

 _"She_ is at a storage shed a couple'a miles from the city. No secure parking in my building, and I ain't leavin' her out all night for someone to hurt her!" Dean said defensively, bristling at even the thought of someone harming his Baby. "Sixty-seven Chevy Impala," he boasted shamelessly, "she was the one I fixed up."

"Oh," Castiel said in a funny tone. "So you take _her_ out for a spin very couple of months?"

"Yeah. I miss drivin' her. Maybe I'll go see Bobby. That'll be my second resolution," Dean nodded firmly; he was long overdue for a visit. He knew he'd get his ass handed to him when he finally showed his face, but it was time.

"Any others?" Cas prompted. Dean thought for a moment, accidentally catching himself staring at Cas. He looked down at his plate instead.

"Can't think of any right now," he mumbled. It was a little white lie to keep him out of jail, he told himself. "What are yours?"

"Finish school, take care of Dutchess and…" Castiel trailed off in a mumble.

"What was that?" Dean asked, his own face heating in response to Castiel blushing.

"I, um… I don't want to say," Castiel replied awkwardly. Had the morning not been quite so awkward already, Dean would've pushed the subject. As it was, just this once, he was more than willing to let it slide.

"Okay," he said simply. "Let me know if you change your mind and want to talk about it."

He went to collect his and Castiel's plates, but Cas swooped them from under him and took them to the sink, immediately rinsing and washing them.

"Shit, Cas, was that last resolution to stop being such a spoiled little brat?" Dean quipped.

"Piss off," Castiel threw a glare over his shoulder, "you can do it, if it really means that much to you."

Dean felt his eyes slide over Castiel's backside and _seriously, where the hell did all this come from?_

He definitely needed to get laid. That's all it was. He wasn't attracted to a teenager. He couldn't be!

"Hey, um, maybe one of my resolutions should be to… To give you some more space. Leave you alone for a bit," Dean suggested hesitantly.

It wasn't that he didn't enjoy his nights in with Cas. As he was now beginning to realize; he enjoyed them a little too much.

"If you think that's in our best interests," Castiel replied casually, if a little passive-aggressive. "Does that mean you have plans for tonight?"

"You know what? I think I will go out," Dean nodded to himself. He just needed to have a couple of drinks and have some guy fuck some sense into him.

On the night of the January the first, that's exactly what Dean Winchester did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If someone wants to dispute that this falls under the 'underage' category, please let me know so I can adjust my tags (and summary) accordingly. Personally, I think it's a very fine line that I'm on the innocent side of, but if you guys have any serious qualms, please let me know. Also, in my country the AOC is 16-17, depending on the state, but Dean and Cas aren't in my country and I assume most of you aren't either.
> 
> Hope you guys are still reading and still enjoying :)
> 
> Mm, and I bumped it up to Mature because of the increasingly frequent adult themes, drinking, swearing, etc, etc. Sorry if anyone got offended reading it while it was G.


	17. A Change in Sexual Orientation... Potentially

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I had a dollar for every word I've posted because this chapter pushed me over 100k of them on this account! Like, woah! 
> 
> I hope you like this one, and not just because I stayed up until one am writing and editing due to the fact that I probably mightn't be able to post again until Sunday evening.
> 
> (I really don't think it's just going to be 20 chapters, but it won't be more than 25)

Castiel could easily admit -- to himself, at least, because lo and behold he had no one else -- that he was disappointed that, for the first time in a long time, he would be left home alone.

He understood and sympathized with Dean, but it didn't make it any better.

He knew it was his own stupid fault, he'd practically humped Dean in his sleep; that kinda thing doesn't sit well with any sane person, but he was still painfully disappointed that Dean was taking it so hard.

Or maybe that was just the final straw.

Castiel didn't ask what Dean had been doing in those few hours that he was MIA the previous night, maybe he'd gone and hooked up? An unpleasant feeling that Castiel couldn't quite identify settled in his stomach.

Surely Dean wouldn't storm out, sleep with someone, and then come back and spend the night watch Cas?

New Year's Day passed in a blur of tense silence and stilted conversation.

Nighttime rolled around and Dean showered and changed, leaving with an, "Are you sure this is okay?" followed by, "Don't wait up. I'll be home late."

Castiel may be the biggest virgin ever -- in fact, losing that label was one of his resolutions -- but even he knew what that meant.

Dean was probably going out to bang some pretty young thing to wipe out the weird almost-gay moment he and Cas had unintentionally shared that morning.

Which -- did this make Castiel himself gay? Dean had said something about it being a teenager thing, but maybe… _Nah, surely not._

Castiel's mind slammed to a halt as he remembered the porn Dean gave him for Christmas, how he didn't particularly enjoy it, like, _at all._

Castiel blinked hard and tried to think of any other times he may have felt less-than-straight.

Wait, didn't he accidentally check Dean out that time he saw him naked? No, surely not. He didn't even like Dean then. Not that he liked Dean now! Not _like_ like, at least. Definitely didn't _like_ Dean.

Okay, bad track, when was the last time he thought about girls?

Probably that moment of horror when he realized Sam thought he and Anna had relations.

Which, naturally, brought to mind Sam thinking he and Dean had relations.

"Oh, my God!" He said aloud, running his hand through his hair. Sam thought he was gay, that guy at the party way back when thought he was gay and he'd woken up just this morning with his hard dick firmly pressed up some guy's -- not just some guy, _Dean's_ \-- ass!

He'd missed twenty minutes of the movie he wasn't really watching in the first place, while he worked through his… Whatever.

Maybe he should take it to Google. Yeah. He could look at some information, check out Tumblr, see what people had to say.

Or, _or,_ he could do it the easy way and watch porn.

Jesus fucking Christ.

He turned the movie off and took Dutchess upstairs, locking her in the bathroom, and then he climbed onto his bed and turned his laptop on.

He reached the porn site and hesitated, wondering if he really wanted the answer.

If he watched something focused on chicks and couldn't get into it, would he be able to cope with that? If he watched two guys going at it and…

 _But being turned on by porn doesn't necessarily mean anything_ , he told himself firmly. _Just like how watching a cooking show doesn't provide nutrition or satisfy hunger._

Or something.

He closed his laptop and sighed, deciding to build a fantasy instead. It was likely that a fantasy would be more indicative of what he was interested in.

He lay carefully on his back and slid his eyes shut, working his hand below his pant line and loosely holding himself.

_A girl, pretty, brunette… Blonde with nice curves and pretty tits on her knees below him, blinking up with heavily black-rimmed eyes, her artificially red lips wrapped around his cock while she moaned._

Okay, so Castiel was starting to stir a little, but his concentration started to drift. Instead of thinking about a girl sucking his dick, his mind wandered to the most random of places.

He needed to remember to buy cat food. And, oh, crap, he'd forgotten about his homework -- _the girl?_

He opened his eyes and glared at the canopy before sighing heavily.

_A man, he closed his eyes again, with strong, warm hands running up and down his sides, his muscles rippling through his ministrations. His short dirty blond hair the perfect length for Cas to run his fingers through, gripping lightly as the man sucked him down._

_Castiel feels thick hands palming his ass, spreading him open and he groans as a light finger traces his asshole._

_"You like that, sweetheart?" The guy mumbles, nuzzling at Castiel's balls, sucking on them gently. A finger glides smoothly into him as the guy sucks him down and looks up at him through naturally thick, black lashes, his green eyes glinting --_

And Castiel came in record time. Goddamnit.

He cleaned himself up by taking a quick shower and then he hopped into bed, exhausted from the awesome, if slightly unorthodox, orgasm he'd reached. He'd deal with whatever this was in the morning.

* * *

He was up bright and early, thanks to an unpleasant level of anxiety settled low in his stomach.

He went downstairs, figuring he probably actually really needed someone to talk to, and waited for Dean to wake up.

Needless to say, he was quite surprised, and less than impressed, when Dean stepped out of the elevator… In the previous night's clothes.

"Crap," Dean muttered guiltily, "I mean… Hey! Mornin', Cas!"

Cas pursed his lips, squinting at Dean. "I didn't realize you stayed out last night."

"Yeah, uh, it wasn't really… Planned," Dean explained awkwardly. "I'm sorry."

"What? No, there's no need to be sorry. Really," he insisted, feeling slightly put off. Dean didn't look too worse for wear, but he figured the conversation he wanted to have could wait. "I'm, uh… I wanted to talk to you about something, but it can wait 'til later. It's a bit early for… It."

"Rubbish, c'mon, man, you can talk to me about anything, anytime. Why don't we move into the lounge room," Dean offered, smiling that comforting smile of his, and Castiel felt himself nodding and following Dean.

"What's on your mind?" He asked carefully.

"It's, uh… It might make you uncomfortable," Castiel warned, eyes fixed firmly on the ground.

Dean chuckled, "Please, Cas, I can handle it."

"Um, I'm not really sure where to start," Castiel admitted. Dean frowned and reached across to place his hand on Castiel's arm.

"Just take a breath, buddy, and remember it's me you're talking to," Dean said seriously. Castiel chanced a look at Dean's features and saw nothing but support and comfort, and it was really quite nice.

"I think I may be gay," he blurted out, slightly accidentally, before mumbling, "or something…"

"Oh," Dean huffed, "is that all?"

Castiel frowned up at Dean, confused by his response.

"Sorry, that wasn't…" Dean hesitated, "You were kinda making it seem like you were confessing to murdering someone, that's all. But gay is cool, I can deal with gay a lot better than a homicidal maniac."

"Right…"

"So you said you _think;_ are you unsure?" Dean prodded.

"Yeah, I just… I'm not sure if I like girls, but it's not like I've had any experience with them. Or guys, either," Castiel added.

"No, yeah, I get you. Sometimes you don't need experience, sometimes you just know," Dean explained, "and even if you're not sure, it's not like you need to label yourself or fit yourself to any definition. Just go with the flow, do what feels natural, y'know?"

Castiel thought about that for a while. He supposed Dean was right; labeling himself was unnecessary. 'Go with the flow' and all that...

"How was your night?" Castiel asked, appreciating Dean's advice, but needing to change the subject.

Dean's face seemed to darken. "Full of regrets, Cas, full of regrets. I don't think I'll be going out too much more, if that's alright with you."

"No, that's fine," Castiel confirmed, _really, more than fine._ "Can I -- what sort of regrets?"

Dean shifted uncomfortably, withdrawing his hand that had been gently resting on Castiel's arm the whole time. "I wanted to prove myself right about something. Turned out that not only was I _very_ wrong, but I went about figuring it out the worst possible way."

"Well, that was entirely cryptic and didn't really answer my question at all," Castiel joked, trying to lighten the mood. It pulled a small but slightly sad smile from Dean.

"Anyway, I was thinkin' that we should go out for a bit today. When was the last time you left the house?" Dean asked mockingly.

"Mm, I need to pick up some cat food," Castiel said, remembering his train of thought from the previous night.

"Wow, okay, slow down, Cas, we don't want too much excitement, you won't be able to sleep tonight," Dean deadpanned.

"Shut up, Dean," Castiel laughed, "it was just worth mentioning. Go and shower first, though. You smell like a strip club."

"How do you know what a strip club smells like?" Dean demanded, affronted.

"I don't, specifically, but I assume it's something along the lines of alcohol, desperation, and bodily fluids, all of which you reek. Shower," he commanded. Dean blushed in a way that made his freckles stand out prominently, and he nodded.

"Meet you at the elevator in an hour and we can go and get some breakfast?"

"Of course, Dean," Castiel nodded. Dean stood and ruffled Cas' hair, and the teen felt his hand linger. He shuddered lightly as Dean pulled his hand away and walked off.

He hoped Dean would be okay after his night of regrets.


	18. A Change in Companionship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm an asshole, and quite possibly a liar. When was the last time I updated? I'm sorry. I just lost my mojo. It may be reflected in this chapter, but fingers crossed it's okay. I'll make up for my lousiness by posting another tomorrow or the day after. You guys are the best, thank you so much for reading <3

Dean was, officially, screwed. Yeah, yeah, in the fun way, har-har, but it wasn't fun at all.

It was the opposite of fun because, well, because it… _Because it wasn't Cas,_ alright?

And not just because it wasn't Cas that was fucking him -- except that totally played a major role in it, but Dean was going to deny that until his very last breath -- it was more that he'd rather be sitting beside Cas, not having sex. Doing whatever, really.

Because Cas? He was a thousand times better than the random that Dean had picked up. A thousand times better than almost anyone.

So Dean had gone out to prove that he wasn't feeling things for Cas, except he only managed to disprove this in the most undignified way possible.

Then Cas had come out and Dean spent a long few days trying not to look at Cas in this new, perverted light.

Castiel may have sensed something was up, because he shot Dean special looks every five minutes, emotions ranging from perplexed to worried to nervous, and boy was it making _Dean_ nervous.

Mr Novak's funeral came and went with little emotional display from Cas. Dean accepted that if Castiel needed him, he would come to him. The only moment Castiel's demeanor showed something other than cool indifference was when he hesitantly slipped his hand along the length of Dean's and wove his fingers between his, during the lowering of the casket.

Dean's had hitched embarrassingly and the gesture sent a warmth radiating through him, even though they were exposed to the cold January weather, snow and all.

His own reaction made Dean want to shove Castiel away, and he wondered if it wasn't the teen's father's funeral, and Cas didn't need the silent support, he might have.

Dean knew a stronger man than he couldn't have.

He spent each night curled guiltily in his blankets, drifting in and out of restless sleep.

After the funeral, the looks Castiel sent him were different.

At first, he didn’t know what he was seeing. And then it hit him.

Gratitude. Respect.

And something fierce, almost like defiance, but somehow completely different. Dean didn’t bother trying to figure out that emotion. He decided it was best if he didn't know.

January passed at a snail's pace, and as his birthday drew closer, he realized he should stop fretting over his feelings towards Cas. He certainly wasn't going to act on them, and the feelings would dissipate. With age comes wisdom and all that.

The realization didn't exactly help the situation, though.

He woke on January the twenty-fourth, wholeheartedly prepared to treat it like any other day, with maybe a phone call from Bobby or Sam, but instead, when he entered the kitchen, he was greeted with a less-than-impressed looking Castiel and an excited but guilty looking Sam.

"Hey, little brother, it's good to see you," Dean beamed, wrapping his arms around Sam, shooting an apologetic look to Castiel.

"Yeah, man, happy birthday! Surprise!" Sam added, laughing.

"Yes, Dean," Castiel scowled, "happy birthday."

Dean flinched a little and hastened to apologize.

"Look, I know you didn't expect Sam to show up, neither did I, I swear! But it's cool, we can go stay at my apartment," Dean offered, hoping to appease Castiel.

"You--" Castiel cut himself off, his frown deepening. "That will not be necessary. Sam is always welcome here, you both know that," he said coolly, before retreating up the stairs.

"What's his problem?" Dean wondered aloud, guilt settling heavy in his stomach. It had been a long time since Castiel had been genuinely pissed at him, not since before Dean's annoying little revelation that was making the experience a hundred times worse.

Sam coughed lightly and smirked at him, "Probably has something to do with the fact that you didn't tell him your birthday is coming up and he's embarrassed he didn't get you anything because he's super in love with you."

Dean, on some level, knew that Sam was just being a piece of shit little brother, but he felt his face heat as he hissed, "Shut up! He so is not!" to Sam, glancing around guiltily.

He realized his mistake when he looked at Sam; the boy who had grown up with him, the boy who had seen him in love and in lust on countless occasions, the boy who was currently staring at him open-mouthed, a look of utter _no fucking way_ on his face.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and turned on his heel, effectively running away from the conversation.

He stomped up to Castiel's room and knocked on the wall beside the open door, watching as Castiel stroked Dutchess.

"Yeah?" Castiel said blandly, picking up the cat -- who had gotten huge, by the way -- and held her to his chest, like Dean had seen him do many times before when he was upset or confused or worried.

"What's'a matter, you?" Dean hesitantly stepped into the room, walking over to sit next to Castiel on the bed.

"Why didn't you tell me it was your birthday?" Castiel asked, looking solemnly up beneath his lashes, his deep, blue eyes making Dean want to squirm away and beg forgiveness.

"S'not a big deal, Cas, that's why. Didn't want you goin' into a flap, tryin'a make it one," he smiled, trying for fond but maybe just hitting sad.

"It _is_ a big deal, Dean," he protested, "if any birth should be celebrated, it's yours."

Dean wondered if the deeper meaning he heard was wishful thinking, but then he remembered he couldn't wish for shit like that.

"Well, we all know Sam's a big girl and he's gonna have this whole weekend planned to the nines, so why don't we go downstairs and see how he plans on making it a big deal, huh?" Dean offered, nudging Castiel's shoulder with his own.

He could see Castiel fighting off a smile, rather valiantly, but his lips twitched as he said, "I'm still pissed at you, Dean Winchester."

"Yeah, I know you are," Dean reached over and patted Castiel's hand in a moment of sheer, selfish birthday-indulgence.

They headed back downstairs and found Sam smiling smugly at them.

"Don’t give me that look, Samantha, I'll kick your ass into next week," Dean growled, knowing that at some point during his brother's visit, Sam was going to pull him aside and force a _talk_ upon him. He shuddered at the thought.

"C'mon, Dean, get dressed, we're doing breakfast at Jo's!" Sam ordered, before turning to Castiel, "You're coming."

"I thought Jo owned a bar," Castiel frowned, his forehead and nose scrunching up in a way that totally wasn't cute at all.

"It's more like a diner type thing, but Dean could turn a Starbucks into a bar; he's that classy," Sam bitchfaced, to which Dean grinned.

"Careful, Sammy, that almost sounded like a compliment," Dean chuckled.

* * *

After Castiel had practically kicked them out of the apartment to have lunch together before Sam went to the airport on Sunday afternoon, Dean found himself surveying a menu, carefully avoiding Sam, who was giving him _the look._

"So, Dean, you and Cas--"

"Nope," Dean interrupted blandly. Not a denial, just a good ol' _'don't you fucking go there, Sammy.'_

"Dean," Sam sighed longsufferingly, and Dean ran his index finger down the menu interestedly, pausing on the bacon burger. "Dean, look at me."

Dean looked up, schooling his expression into one of _done._ Sam scrunched his face in amusement, or maybe annoyance; Dean didn't really care.

They held eye contact for minutes, neither blinking or flinching away.

"So you're in love with Cas."

It was one thing to admit it to himself, because really, what could it be if not love? After all this time, all the time he'd spent with Cas, all the things they'd gone through together, secrets shared, family horror, everything… It moved from being platonic love -- 'cause that's what it _was_ \-- to being… Less-than-platonic.

So sue him. Dean Winchester was a big baby who couldn't keep his emotions and/or baggage in check. Surprise, sur-fucking-prise.

It was another experience entirely to have it spat at him judgmentally by his baby brother, who used to love and respect him.

Except, Sam didn't spit at him, and if anything he sounded smug, or at the very least: content.

Dean stared at Sam for a while longer, trying to decide what reaction could best suit this situation.

"My god, you're annoying," he settled with, glaring down at his menu again. "How's things with Jess? You proposed yet? Must be _the one_ if you ditched out on Christmas for her."

"Oh, no, Dean," Sam said, and Dean could hear the grin in his voice, the little shit, "this isn't about me and Jess. We're on you right now. So, spill."

"Spill what?" Dean asked, signalling the waitress that they were ready to order. He was, unfortunately, ignored.

 _"Dean,"_ Sam nagged.

 _"Sam,"_ Den mocked.

"Ugh, you're obviously too immature to talk about or deal with this like a normal person, so I'm going to say what I said to Cas during my last visit when I thought you guys were dating--"

"You _what?"_ Dean demanded at that attention-grabbing tidbit.

"Yeah, because I was so obviously off base," Sam replied with heavy sarcasm and a dramatic eyeroll. _"It's not wrong._ You guys obviously feel pretty strongly about one another -- _don't you interrupt me, Dean Winchester_ \-- you don't have to define those feelings, but it's obvious they're there. If it's his age, or whatever, that's messing you up… It's not a big deal. He's been real good for you, Dean, and vice versa."

"It wasn't his age messing me up, but thanks for the reminder," Dean snapped, giving Sam as close to a confession as the kid was getting.

"Then what?" Sam asked, looking flummoxed. Dean couldn't help but stare, because for a smart guy, _Jesus H Christ_ his brother could be dumb.

"I'm his legal guardian," Dean raised a finger, checking it off, "I'm his paid legal guardian," he raised another finger, "he's a minor -- thanks for that, Sammy -- it would be statutory rape; I'm supposed to be caring for him, not corrupting him; do you know how much psychological damage it would do to the kid if he found out his nanny had the hots for him?"

Sam snickered, the bastard.

"And, _oh my god,_ his parents are super fucking rich -- well, his mother is, my bad -- and could take out a hit on me if I so much as glanced at Cas sideways," and god it felt nice to get all his worry off his chest for once. "In fact, she could probably kill me herself and bribe the judge, the jury, and the state."

"I don't know what to tell you, Dean," Sam hand, still looking vaguely amused, "you got yourself in a right pickle."

"Shut the fuck up," Dean growled halfheartedly.

"All I'm saying is: don't make yourself miserable. Don't punish yourself, don't hold out, don't get scared, don't… Don't _Dean-out_ about it," Sam sighed, sinking back in his chair, looking sympathetic.

"Did you just use my name as a verb?" Dean frowned, appalled that his brother had said that.

"You deserve to be happy once in a while," Sam brushed him off, "just don't… Don't rule it out altogether."

Dean grumbled something vaguely in the affirmative, but he knew that _he_ was blatantly right, and Sam had no idea what he was talking about.

There was no way Dean and Cas would ever be more than a weird combination of friends and care-giver/-receiver.


	19. [It Unsurprising That I've Had] A Change of Heart: Castiel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little dialogue, lotta cliché. My bad. But, it fits, so...

Castiel was seated on his bed, brushing Dutchess' fur. It turned out that she was a long haired cat, and now that she had grown a bit more, so had her fur.

Dean was forever complaining about white fur on his jeans, and while Castiel teased him, he had to admit it wasn't a good look on his school uniform, either.

Dean.

Things had been… Weird. Since New Years.

Possibly since Boxing Day, actually.

Between coming out and funerals everything in between, it's natural for things to be strained.

If it were just regular strain, Castiel could deal with that. God, he'd take Dean being pissed off with him for three weeks over why things were currently weird.

Why _were_ things currently weird? Well...

At his fathers funeral, Castiel had hesitantly took Dean's hand. Dean was his rock. Anna had been there, for support, she'd known Mr Novak, but… She wasn't the same as Dean. Dean had squeezed his hand and shuffled closer to Castiel, and right then was when Castiel realised exactly why Anna wasn't the same as Dean.

He loved Anna, but damnit…

He was _in_ love with Dean.

And wasn't that a royal fuck up on his part?

Oh, he knew it was bad, but he couldn't actually say it surprised him. If anything, he was amazed it took him so long to figure out.

All the little hints, the million and one amazing emotions Dean could make him feel with a look or a touch or one of his blinding smiles… It all made a twisted sort of sense.

If he'd realised sooner what was happening, Castiel would've stopped it, he would have stamped it out, because falling in love with Dean, his nanny, his best friend, his whole damn world… That was a problem.

He sighed and ran his fingers through Dutchess' soft fur, making sure he'd got all the knots on her stomach.

Castiel couldn't believe his luck sometimes. Of course he had to go ahead and ruin the single most stable relationship in his life by developing these stupid feelings.

He flopped back onto his bed and stared at the canopy, thinking how even if Dean wasn't payed to take care of him, even if somehow they did still manage to meet, they never would have ended up together.

Not with the age difference, not with their baggage… Any possible variant of their paths crossing would never allow for them to be together, and for that Castiel mourned.

They were obviously perfectly compatible when they got down to it, past their exteriors, past their… Past.

"Hey, Cas, whatcha thinkin' about?" Castiel started as he heard Dean talk from the doorway.

He sat up slowly and crossed his legs, looking at Dean's soft expression, and tried to remember the last time Dean had called him 'kid'. It had been months, but it was unlikely to mean anything. As if Dean would ever see him as anything other than the child he cared for.

"Dinner," he lied tonelessly. He wasn't trying to be cold towards Dean, he really wasn't, but some things just come with unfortunate, untimely realisations of feelings.

"There's a new Italian place near Jo's. She reckons they have the best lasagna in the world, but she made me swear on pain of death not to repeat that to her mom," Dean suggested, chuckling.

Castiel had enjoyed meeting Jo over breakfast with Sam and Dean. For all she was tiny and beautiful, she was feisty and slightly terrifying. Dean was either very brave or very stupid for some of the things he'd said and done to her through the past, most of which were brought up through the meal.

"Sure," Castiel agreed, because after three weeks of begin awkward around Dean, he was going to have to learn to be normal around him at one point or another. It was likely they were going to be together for a while, and even when outside the realms of employment, he knew he would never give Dean up. He still saw Anna frequently.

They walked to the restaurant, though the air was still cold as January faded.

When they arrived, it was considerably fancier than Castiel had expected, and he was taken aback of how date-like the setting was.

The host greeted them and showed them to a small private booth, because they were apparently around eighty percent of the restaurant's contents, and they sat across from each other, separated by dim candlelight. Talk about awkward.

Castiel could even see Dean's discomfort, just another reminder he would never, ever have a chance. It wasn't too disheartening, though, because he'd pretty much known that right from the 'oh'. He had decided to not even bother contemplating or trying _anything._ It would just end messily.

"This is, um," he began, trying to contain his discomfort, "nice."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, hesitantly. Castiel sighed and diverted his attention to the menu.

"You spoken to your mom lately?" Dean asked after a prolonged silence.

"No."

"Oh," Dean hesitated, and Castiel rolled his eyes minutely, deciding to at least make an effort. It wasn't Dean's fault he was the single most incredible person in Castiel's life and Castiel couldn't separate his emotions.

"She's in in Europe, as far as I'm aware," Castiel tells him, "she particularly likes to pretend I don't exist when she's in Europe because she never visited before I was born, and I held her back for so long."

"Seriously? What the hell did your dad do? What does your mom do? Why the hell were they always traveling around the world? Why are they so rich?" Dean looked like those questions had been bugging him for some time.

"Oh, sorry, did I never tell you? They--"

"Good evening, sir, may I take your order?" A blonde waitress asked Dean with a bright smile, taking out her notepad. Dean tore his eyes away from Castiel and glared at the woman who had interrupted them, much to Castiel's amusement.

"Cheese bread and lasagna, please," Dean schooled his expression into a smile as she jotted the order down.

"And for your date?" She asked, smiling at Castiel, whose stomach clenched horribly.

"Oh, I'm not--"

"Yeah, baby, what was it you wanted?" Dean grinned, throwing Castiel off completely. Castiel frowned down at his menu, forgetting what he'd decided on and trying to keep his breathing normal.

"Make it two," he mumbled, because that was all he could force out, and how the hell was he supposed to think and make decisions when Dean was pretending they were on a date?

"Excellent choice, that'll be right out," she kept her smile in place as she flounced off, taking their menus away, so Castiel now longer had nothing to busy himself with. Bitch.

"Why, um," Castiel began, but stopped himself, not really thinking _that_ conversation would be for the best.

"Just easier," Dean shrugged easily, filling in the blanks. "You're in for a real treat, Cas, Dean Winchester does not do dates by halves."

 _But it's not real,_ Castiel's subconscious whined. He glanced up at Dean's easy-going smile, and relaxed body language and sighed. If Dean was gonna pretend for one night, who the hell was Castiel to say no?

* * *

The worst part, the _absolute worst part,_ was that not very much was different to all the other times they'd gone out for a meal.

That was when Castiel realised that they were practically dating without the _really_ fun parts. And exclusivity.

As they left their table after the meal, their waitress came over to thank them and bid them goodnight, and Dean grinned, taking Castiel's hand.

That was the only thing different to all the other times.

Out in the cool air, Dean didn't let his go of his hand, and chattered on happily, oblivious to Castiel's inner turmoil.

They were so fucking close, but so damn far, and it just wasn't fair.

They spent all of their time together, peacefully. They knew just about everything about each other, and none of the bad stuff mattered. All that was missing was the closeness, the touches, and, on Dean's part at least, the love.

"…And if we cut across the park, we'll probably get home quicker," Castiel missed most of what Dean was saying. Whatever.

"And get mugged, while we're at it," Castiel scrunched his nose. As nice as the park was during the day, he wasn't foolish enough to assume it was the same during the night.

"Oh, don't be so paranoid. We can go over the bridge, if you want," Dean offered, knowing Castiel loved the little old bridge.

"Damn it, fine," he sighed dramatically. Dean grinned and held his hand tighter as he dragged him across the road to the park.

Castiel looked up at the full moon. He couldn't see many stars, the city wasn't exactly the best place to stargaze, after all. He could feel Dean's eyes on him, and he turned to meet his gaze.

"I'll take you out to the country, sometime," Dean offered softly, "take Baby for a road trip. The night sky," he sighed, looking up, "it's amazing. Away from the lights of the city. Makes you feel so small."

"I'd like that," Castiel smiled faintly.

They reached the bridge in silence, and Dean led them to the wall. They looked over the water, grayed snow lining the shores.

Castiel let go of Dean's hand and turned his back to the wall, looking back up at the moon. He could see some of the very brightest stars, twinkling lightly in faint clusters. He could imagine what they'd be like in the country.

"Beautiful," he huffed almost silently, but of course Dean heard him.

"Sure is," Dean replied softly, and when Castiel looked away from the sky, he realised Dean wasn't looking at it either.

"G-getting the full fake date experience, clichés and all, huh?" He tried to say it mockingly, teasing Dean, but it just came out breathless and pathetic.

"Mm," Dean said noncommittally, wrapping his arm around Castiel's shoulders. "Let's not push our luck and get outta here before we're stabbed, huh?"

"S-sure."

When they got home there was no goodnight kiss, and they went to sleep in their separate beds, because _it wasn't a real date._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Twenty chapters" my arse! Still, it will be wrapped up soon. Maybe twenty-three/-four? Don't quote me. Love you all, you've given wonderful feedback, and so many kudos! Gorgeous people. Ch20 up on the 9th in celebration of a whole month that some of you have been hanging around for! A whole month some of you have stuck it out for and not got sick of my mad rambling! Awesome.


	20. A Change in Rationalization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much Dean/Cas interaction in this chapter, but that's okay because there is more to come.

On the first day of February, Dean put a lot of effort into not thinking about the not-date from the night before.

He got out of bed, showered, and made breakfast, as normal.

He and Cas bantered over the meal, as always. It may have been a little more tense than usual, as though they were both forcing things to be normal.

Neither of them brought up the not-date. Which was to be expected, because he'd probably creeped Castiel out with it, oh god, Castiel was probably scared of Dean because he was a big old pervert--

So, not thinking about it.

Castiel silently cleared their plates, something he'd taken to doing more often, though it still surprised Dean.

Dean wondered how long it was going to take for him to get over this stupid little crush. In a perfect world, he could put the charm on and Castiel would be enamoured, but this wasn’t a perfect world, and if Dean did that, it would make him the worst person in the world.

Okay, well, maybe that was a little melodramatic, but he still would certainly have a lot more to answer for than he already does.

"Everything okay?" Castiel asked hesitantly as Dean stared out the window, caught up in his own mind.

"Yeah absolutely," he grinned half-heartedly, turning to look at Castiel. Cas looked concerned and caring, and Dean's stomach clenched so violently -- at being on the receiving end of such a powerful look that didn't mean what he so desperately wanted it to -- that he had to leave. He was officially becoming a girl.

"I've, um I've actually got a thing," Dean grimaced, trying to rush away before Castiel called him out, "a -- uh… A doctor's appointment. Shit, I totally forgot. Yeah, I'd better get going. You'll be okay here, right?"

Castiel cocked his head and nodded slowly. Dean tried one last smile, before fleeing the apartment.

He actually couldn't believe he'd got himself into this situation. He was going to be with Cas for the foreseeable future, so he was going to need to keep himself in check.

Sleeping with other people obviously didn't work… And he was in so deep that simply getting over Castiel seemed highly unlikely. Maybe if he found other people to spend time around platonically? He could start seeing Jo more, and not just for her burgers and beer.

As clichéd as it sounded, even in his own mind, Dean couldn't help thinking 'why me?'

He didn't even have anyone to blame but himself. Yeah, Castiel was pretty damn cool, and could probably make anyone fall in love with him, but jesus. Why Dean?

And what the hell was he thinking; pretending to date Cas? What did that prove to anyone? He cringed at the thought of a fake date being all he ever got with Castiel.

He found himself wandering towards Jo's after all, which was probably fair enough, seeing as it was one of the few places he had to go.

It was relatively empty for a Sunday morning, the bad weather perhaps a deterrent.

"Scotch and soda," he said mournfully, sitting at the bar where, thankfully, Jo was working.

"It's a little early, Dean," Jo said hesitantly, glancing at the clock.

"'S why I got the side of soda."

"What's the matter?" Jo asked, getting the drink without any further protests. For all that she was like an annoying little sister sometimes, she could be a pretty awesome friend.

"Eh," Dean shrugged, testing the drink. Would'a been better without the soda, but whatever.

"Come on, Dean, Sam's in Cali, Bobby's in Hickville… Who the hell else you got to talk to? Other than Cas," she added as an afterthought.

"Not gonna have Cas to talk to for much longer," he grumbled.

"Why's that?"

"I fucked up, Jo," Dean sighed.

"Oh, Dean, no!" Jo groaned, tying her hair up, which, in Dean's experience, meant she was going to throw punches. "What the hell did you do?"

"Please don't hit me," he flinched, but she just rolled her eyes.

"I'm not going to hit you, idiot. Why don't you tell me the whole story," she commanded, glancing around the bar and diner, making sure her staff were doing their job in the absence of her doing hers.

Dean only hesitated briefly before spilling everything, from how Castiel detested him, to Castiel's family, to the awkward moment on New Year's, right up to the not-date from the previous night.

When he was done, Jo was stoically pouring him another drink.

"You," she pushed the glass to him, "are a complete, utter idiot, Dean Winchester."

And she really did punch him.

"Argh, what the hell, Jo!"

"Of course I knew you were in love with him! No one dips out on my Halloween parties unless they're seriously whipped!" She grimaced.

"That was three months ago, Jo, you're gonna need to get over that one," Dean reprimanded.

"I need to run an intervention," she said wistfully. "Can I have Castiel's number?"

"Absolutely not."

"You know I'm going to get it one way or another, why don't you make it easy for yourself?"

"Why do you need to intervene? Why do you want to speak to him?" Dean demanded.

"Because I have a theory," she grinned, and Dean absolutely did not like the glint in her eye.

"Care to share with the class?" He grumbled.

"Nope, I need to speak to loverboy first," she folded her arms and stared at him evenly.

"It's not gonna happen, so either talk me off the ledge or I'm leaving."

She rolled her eyes dramatically and leaned across the bar, gesturing for Dean to move in like she was going to whisper a secret to him.

Dean, the idiot he was so often accused of being, fell for it and flinched as she shouted in his face, "He's in love with you too!"

"What?" Dean almost laughed, "As if!"

"I'm gonna freakin'--" Jo cut herself off with a frustrated groan and pulled out her cell phone, quickly calling someone and putting it on speaker.

"How's my blonde that has more fun?" Sam's voice came out of the phone, and it was Dean's turn to groan.

"You're on speaker and your idiot brother is here," Jo told him, smirking at Dean's glare.

"Hey, Dean! Since they're joined at the hip, I'm assuming Cas is there too?"

"No, but that's why I called," Jo grinned and yanked the phone out of the way as Dean tried to snatch it. "Is Castiel in love with Dean?"

"Hah! Oh, god, yeah!"

Dean buried his face in his hands.

"I'm not sure if he's worked it out yet, but he's definitely in love with you, Dean. You can see it every time he looks at you. Back me up, Jo."

"It's gross," she agreed.

"He's not in love with me, and it wouldn't make a lick of difference if he was," Dean said petulantly.

"Yeah, yeah, self-hatred, he's so young, blah, blah, blah," Sam said flippantly. Jo giggled as Dean banged his head on the bar. God, he could kill her right now. Could kill both'a them, actually.

"Ask him to be your Valentine, and then you'll know for sure!" Jo snickered.

"We're done here," Dean sighed, slipping off the bar stool and storming out without paying.

He walked around the city aimlessly, just thinking.

Maybe Jo and Sam could be right…

Or was it wishful thinking, was he reading too far into the looks Cas would give him sometimes?

Dean had been in the dark for so long, it was plausible that Castiel was going through the same struggles…

Dean thought he may want to try and wean himself from Castiel, try and find himself a social group to distract himself, but the idea was sincerely unappealing.

Not only that, but from what he'd gathered, Castiel didn't exactly have the best social group, either, and he may end up alone a lot of the time, which Dean didn't like the thought of.

He wondered briefly if Castiel didn't have many friends because Dean was all he needed, or wanted.

It was highly unlikely, in fact, nigh impossible.

No matter what either of them felt, however, Dean was certain that nothing would ever come of it.

He would make sure of that.

 _At least not while I'm his carer,_ was a thought he didn't care to acknowledge or address.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote two versions of this chapter, and spent a whole day deciding which one to post, because they were quite different and could take the story in two mildly different directions, but I thought the alternative chapter made Dean a less sympathetic character, and that none of you would like him very much in the end (and neither would Castiel, for a while.)
> 
> This one isn't as long, or as strong, but I think it's better in the long run.


	21. A Change in Boldness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE 200th EPISODE?!!! [No Spoilers, but:] The opening title, the part where Sam and Dean are like 'oh, right, forgot about that...', 'transformative fiction', the girls that were in a relationship, THE ENDING WITH MY BABY oh god. It wasn't even that emotional but I still spent the afternoon crying on and off because they made it to two hundred episodes(and, of course, the end with my baby; I was openly sobbing at that stage because I CALLED IT AND ALSO MY BABY), and that episode was made for us, the fans, it was 100% everything we've been asking for, maybe not in the most obvious or canonical ways, but it was all there and I was just really overwhelmed with emotions because this show literally changed my life in ways I couldn't imagine this time two years ago before I started watching it.
> 
> So, in all, I just wanted to show my appreciation to the cast and crew of Supernatural, and to all of the fans of the show, as well, because I would never have watched it if it weren't for fucking tumblr rubbing the gay, the sexiness, and the general badassery in my face day in and day out, finally making me cave and succumb to the weird and wonderful world of SPN. (And, boy, did it get weird in 200.)

Castiel really wished he had someone to talk to.

He had Dean, but he obviously couldn't talk to Dean about _this._

The point of talking was to vent his frustrations, not sell himself out.

And, boy, was he frustrated.

Every little thing Dean did reminded him of the fact that, yep, he's in love with Dean.

After the date that wasn't, he decided that he was going to push some boundaries and try to -- okay, okay, he really didn't know what he was trying to do, all he knew was that the 'date' was as close to being with Dean as he was ever going to get.

But that didn't mean he couldn't mess around and have a little fun pretending otherwise, right? The only one who stood to get hurt was himself, and he always was a little masochistic.

"I really liked that Italian place, Dean, we should definitely go back there," Castiel said off-handedly in the cab on the way home from school. He didn't mention the fact that the staff most likely supposed they were in a relationship, and nor did Dean.

"It _was_ good," Dean smiled reminiscently. Nothing could get Dean going like food. Well, nothing that Cas knew of, firsthand…

"Are you going out tonight?" Castiel asked. Dean hadn't said anything, but it was possible. In fact, it was likely.

"No," Dean frowned, "should I be?"

"Oh, I just figured that, since it's Valentine's Day and all…" Castiel trailed off.

"It is?"

"Er, _yeah,"_ Castiel replied, the 'obviously' implied. "Weren't you bombarded by date offers?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked, shifting in his seat to look at Castiel properly.

"Oh, please, Dean, look at yourself. I think you know exactly what I mean," Castiel smirked. Dean opened his mouth to reply, but he snapped it shut again and looked out the window. Castiel decided to keep pushing.

"So in the absence if a date, you're stuck with me."

"I ain't 'stuck' with anyone. I like hanging out with you," Dean replied, not looking at Castiel.

"Two people who aren't related, hangin' out all alone on Valentine's Day… Has some hefty implications, don't you think?" Castiel asked, unsure where all of this was coming from. He bit back a laugh as Dean visibly hesitated.

"I don't know what you mean there, Cas," Dean said, practically leaping out of the cab as it pulled up outside of their building.

"I mean, it's almost like we're a couple," Castiel said, enunciating every word perfectly as he chased Dean into the lobby. They reached the elevator and Dean stared at him for a long time. His expression was open and curious and searching, and Castiel wasn't sure what it meant.

"You really think you'd want to be in a relationship with someone like me?"

Castiel could feel his heartbeat throughout his very being. He swallowed thickly and thought back to when Dean had invited Anna and Michael for Thanksgiving, to when Dean had bought Castiel a cat because he'd never had a pet before, to when he accidentally saw Dean naked, to when Dean had crawled into bed alongside Castiel after their fight.

"Yes," he replied, and hell if he'd never been so sure of anything in his life.

Dean looked slightly taken aback, but nodded thoughtfully as the elevator doors opened.

"I'll, uh… I'll bear that in mind."

Castiel wasn't sure what to make of that, but Dean didn't seem to be creeped out or angry, so he decided to count it as a win.

Once in the apartment, they went their separate ways, Castiel had homework and Dean had muttered something about cleaning.

Castiel was immersed in writing an essay, of all things, checking his assigned text and flicking through his related texts for quotes and points of references, when Dean called him downstairs over the intercom.

Castiel looked out of his glass wall and realized the sky was dark; he'd been holed up in his bedroom for hours!

He stumbled downstairs and found Dean in the lounge room, two plates covered in pizza set on the coffee table on either side of a candle, the television paused on the _20th Century Fox_ logo.

"The hell?" He muttered, feeling himself blush.

"Come on, Cas," Dean grinned cockily, "if we're gonna be each other's dates for Valentine's Day, we should probably spend some time together!"

Castiel wondered if Dean had any idea that he was just about fucking killing Castiel.

"Right," he said hesitantly. He shook his head slightly and pulled himself together, flopping onto the couch and picking up his plate. "What are we watching, then?"

"Not sure," Dean admitted, settling reasonably close to Castiel, "the movie catalogue said it has Chris Evans in it, so I took a chance."

Castiel snorted into his slice of pizza as Dean hit play, and they watched in silence as the opening credits played over some upbeat, pop song that made Castiel cringe. He recognized a couple of the actors, though, so it couldn't be a too bad movie…

"Mm, I wouldn't mind waking up next to Zachary Quinto," Dean huffed, blushing and shoving his food into his mouth when Castiel raised an eyebrow at him.

Castiel accidentally choked on his food when Chris Evans came on screen, very close naked.

"Like what you see?" Dean laughed, nudging Castiel.

"Reminds me of someone else," and, shit, he so did not mean to say that out loud. Dean stiffened beside him, and Castiel focused on the movie. And keeping his stupid mouth shut.

The silence didn't last very long.

"This movie is kinda silly…" Dean said after about twenty minutes.

"There'll probably be more Chris Evans soon," Castiel said hopefully, and Dean laughed.

"Why do you need Chris Evans when you've got me?" Dean teased. Castiel rolled his eyes and thought if Dean was gonna go there, he could play along.

Castiel put both his plate and Dean's on the table, and wrapped his arm around Dean's torso, resting his head on Dean's shoulder, snuggling close.

"Yeah," he said as softly as he could manage without laughing, "I do have you."

Dean was tense underneath him for all of three seconds before he wrapped his arms around in response.

They stayed like that for the entirety of the movie, and by the end of it, Castiel was positively vibrating with tension.

He wondered if Dean could sense it too.

It was at times like this that Castiel couldn't help feeling, _hoping,_ that there was something there.

When Dean held him close, or did something sweet, he wondered if maybe Dean felt the same.

He decided that he wanted to bring it up. Not right now, but soon.

He was going to find out once and for all where he and Dean stood; not in a way that could fuck things up if Dean didn't feel the same way, but just so he could get closure, either way.

Dean released Castiel from his arms and stretched, arching his back as Castiel pulled himself off him with every ounce of self-restraint he had.

"Thanks for the wonderful date," he joked, but it was possible he sounded nothing but sincere.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Cas," Dean grinned, turning the television off and collected their plates, while Castiel huffed on the dimming candle.

Castiel trailed behind Dean as he went to the kitchen to clear the plates, not particularly wanting the night to end.

"Somethin' up, Cas?" Dean asked, leaning against the sink and folding his arms across his chest.

"Nope," Castiel lied smoothly, running his fingers through his hair.

"You sure?" Dean asked, a crease appearing between his brows.

"Mm-hm, all good," Castiel smiled, stifling a yawn as Dean peered at him suspiciously.

"Alright," Dean conceded, checking his watch. "Why don't you get to bed, Cas? School tomorrow," Dean reminded him.

"Yes, Dean," Castiel rolled his eyes but couldn't help laughing a little. God their relationship was… Weird.

"Goodnight, snookums!" Dean called as Castiel climbed the stairs.

"'Night pooky-bear!" Castiel responded, not bothering to watch for Dean's reaction.

So, maybe 'weird' was putting it politely… He was definitely going to have that talk with Dean, very soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mm, okay, so, these idiots are kind of playing the opposite of relationship chicken. I've got *edit*one or two chapters left in me, by then these losers will have got their shit together. Hope y'all will stick around, and thanks for keeping up so far! You're all lovely, with your beautiful comments and kudos. Makes me feel like I'm doing _something_ right, so, ta!  <3
> 
> == I spent five minutes panicking and googling 'bare/bear that in mind' and I'm still not sure if I got it right, please don't yell at me, even though I want to yell at myself! ==
> 
> {The movie they watch is _What's Your Number?_ starring Anna Farris and Chris Evans. If you haven't seen it: the plot mediocre at best (IMO[kinda like this fic lolwhoops]) but it has lots of pretty people and Chris Evans wearing minimal clothing. It sells itself, really.}


	22. A Change in Location

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mm, so in the notes of the previous chapter I may have said something about three or four more chapters when, in reality, it's just one or two. This is one. It's longer than any chapter we've had in a while, to be fair. I think I'll be posting the final chapter tomorrow*, or even tonight*, because I've been wanting to write the ending since the very beginning.

_"What do you want, Dean?"_

"What, Sammy, I don't even get a 'hello'?" Dean grumbled and heard a crackly sigh through the phone.

_"I've got a massive assignment to prep for; I can give you ten minutes, tops. What's wrong?"_

"Why does something have to be wrong for me to call you?" Dean demanded.

_"Nine minutes, thirty eight seconds. You want to continue beating around the bush?"_

"I've always thought that saying was dirty," Dean smirked, resting the phone between his ear and shoulder as he changed into his sweatpants, getting ready for bed.

_"You're confusing porn with real life, again."_

"Don't say 'again', why'd you say 'again'?"

"Dean."

"Alright, okay, fine. I think…" Dean hesitated, reflecting on his night, "I think Castiel might, y'know… I think he might like me back."

 _"Introducing, ladies and gentlemen, Dean Winchester: The Incredible Thirteen Year Old Girl!"_ Sam announced in a loud, booming voice, followed by him snickering at his own joke.

"Real helpful, Sammy."

_"I don't know what you want me to say! I've already said everything I have to say on the matter, you know my opinion."_

"But--"

_"Nope."_

"I jus--"

 _"Nuh-ah,"_ Sam said firmly and Dean pouted, even though no once could see him. _"You need to either man the hell up and talk to him, or get over it."_

 _"Sam-my,"_ Dean whined in protest, not liking either of those ideas.

_"Dean, I just want you to be happy."_

"I don't think that's true," Dean mumbled.

 _"Not entirely,"_ Sam admitted, _"I also want to study."_

"Fine, get gone, you little bitch. You're no help anyway."

_"You love me, jerk!"_

"Yeah, I do," Dean admitted with a fond smile. "Good luck on your assessment."

_"Good luck on your ass."_

"Mm, nah, doesn't make sense," Dean chuckled.

 _"Doesn't need too!"_ Sam retorted and hung up.

As if Dean was ever going to bring that up with Cas.

He was meant to be discouraging that shit, not plucking petals off a frickin' daisy, wondering if 'he loves me' or if 'he loves me not'.

* * *

Not that it was possible to define 'normal', nor were their standards by any means the same as anyone else's, but that's what things were between Dean and Cas.

Mostly.

Well, _actually,_ it was a whole new brand of normal after Valentine's Day. A version of normal where personal space became almost non existent, and where Dean found Castiel sleeping in his bed at least four times in a week.

Don't even ask him how that came about, because he has no fucking clue, and if the way Cas was acting was anything to go by, he didn't have any idea, either.

Dean had just finished throwing together a bacon and egg roll for Castiel's breakfast, and was checking his watch impatientlt when the teen appeared behind him and said, "We need to talk."

"Jesus, Cas, do you know what time it is? Here," he thrust the burger at Castiel and grabbed him by the sleeve of his school sweater, dragging the disheveled man to the elevator. "You're going to be so late!" Dean swore, tapping his foot impatiently as the elevator crawled down through the building.

"Dean--"

"Nope, you eat. We'll talk later," Dean promised, watching the lights on the numbers flick on and off for every level they passed.

He heard Castiel huff, and pushed him out the lift when it opened into the lobby.

Dean hailed a cab as Castiel stood back, finishing off his breakfast.

They slid into the cab and gave the address of Cas' school, and once they were in motion, Castiel turned in his seat to stare at Dean.

"Can we talk now?" He asked in a deadpan voice.

Dean looked at him for a moment and flicked his eyes to the driver, a silent _'Are we really going to talk about this in front of a stranger?'_

Albeit Dean didn't know what exactly  _this_ was, but in his experience _'we need to talk'_ never, ever, _ever_ ended well.

Castiel sighed and gave a tiny, defeated shake of his head.

"This afternoon?" Dean asked, his stomach clenching horribly. This talk was going to plague him all day.

"No," Castiel said quietly, looking out of the window instead of at Dean. "I kinda worked myself up to say it this morning, but…"

"Say what, Cas?" Dean choked out because he couldn't really breathe very well, not with the _talk_ and _it_ and, oh god, there were so many implications.

They pulled up outside of the school, and, seriously, how was there so little traffic? What the hell?

"I'm gonna be late," Castiel shrugged, opening the door but not stepping out.

 _"Say what, Cas?"_ Dean pleaded in a whisper, grabbing Cas' arm desperately, because it kind of, almost sound like he was going to admit that he --

"Gotta go, gonna be late," Castiel mumbled, jumping out of the car and slamming the door shut.

Dean swore, loudly, and the cabbie chuckled at him.

"Back to where you picked us up," Dean snapped, and saw the cabbie raising a challenging eyebrow in the rear-view mirror. "Please," he added quietly.

* * *

That evening after Castiel got home from school, the teen didn't say very much to Dean, and hid out in his bedroom for most of the night. Dean was beyond annoyed, he wanted to know what Cas had to say, what he wanted to talk about, but he knew not to push it.

He made burgers for dinner, because they were Castiel's favorite, and instead of calling Castiel down and forcing his presence on him, he took the plate upstairs, knocking hesitantly before entering his bedroom.

"I brought food," Dean said quietly, placing the plate on the study table next to the doorway. Castiel sat up from where he was lying on his bed, moving his laptop off his chest, and looked at the food, and then at Dean.

"Thank you," he replied softly, and his face betrayed so many conflicting emotions that Dean had to wonder how he didn't explode.

"No worries, Cas, I, uh…" Dean paused, rubbing at his arm slightly, "You know where to find me… When you want to talk."

"Yeah," Castiel huffed, running his fingers through his hair.

"I just… I _think_ I know what you want to say," Dean stated boldly, because fuck it, fuck everything, just seriously goddamn fuck it all to hell, "and… I think you know -- I think you know what my, uh, what my response would be."

He watched Castiel worry his bottom lip between his teeth, and god did he want to do just that to the teen.

"But, uh," Dean continued before Castiel could respond, "I guess I just want you to stop worrying. I can see it in your face. And, I don't know, I think I'm kind of the reason," Dean quirked a smile, because Cas was certainly _his_ reason for worrying, "but you shouldn't worry. It's just me. We're just shy of six months, you should know by now you can talk to me about anything."

He nodded once, to reassure Castiel, or maybe even himself, before turning to leave.

Castiel didn't stop him, but that was okay, because he didn't need to.

For once, Dean was going to take his own advice and stop worrying.

It actually worked surprisingly well, even when, after a few hours Castiel didn't appear downstairs, and Dean went to check on him, only to find him fast asleep, Dutchess curled around his feet.

Dean smiled and crossed the room to grab the dirty plate from earlier -- not a scrap left -- and took it to the kitchen to clean.

He was just letting the water out of the sink when he heard the elevator ding, his Spidey Senses immediately tingling.

He shifted so he could see the entrance, and saw -- no fucking joke -- Mrs Novak standing there, a suitcase by her feet, her cell phone in her hands.

"Mrs Novak?" He asked in shock, because usually they had some warning before she showed up. He swept his eyes over the apartment, making sure it was suitable.

"Oh, darling, I'm glad you're still up!" She said, her heels clip-clopping on the tile as she walked over to stand in front of Dean. "And where is Castiel?"

"He's already asleep, ma'am," Dean told her, shifting on his feet nervously.

"Even better," she gave Dean a look that may have been an attempt at a smile. "Come, sit; we need to talk."

Dean had no choice but to follow her into the lounge room, where he sat on the couch, and she studied him from the armchair. He tried not to think of the outcome from the last time he'd been in this position with one of Castiel's parents.

"Now, I know it's very late at night, and such short notice, but I need you to pack your bags and leave before dawn."

"You -- I'm sorry, what?" Dean wasn't even sure if his heart was still beating. Was she joking? Had he heard her wrong? Maybe he was misinterpreting and overreacting…

"You have been an excellent service to Castiel, I'm sure, but the boy is and has always been hellbent on independence. I've decided to gift it to him for his eighteenth," Mrs Novak explained, and Dean was vaguely impressed that she knew how old her son was.

"I… Okay, so why do I have to sneak off in the middle of the night?" Dean asked, because it really wasn't okay, and he really, really, _really_ didn't want to do this and, _holy shit,_ it just hit him that he was going to lose Cas!

"I want it to be a nice surprise for his birthday!" Mrs Novak replied, her eyes gleaming.

"His birthday isn't until next week," Dean said, wondering if he sounded as hysterical as he felt.

"I know when my son's birthday is," Mrs Novak snapped, "I can't be in town on his birthday, so I thought I'd surprise him. Not only will he wake up tomorrow and find the bane of his life gone, but his mother will be here!"

Dean resented that, he really didn't think he was the Bane of Castiel's life. More like the Batman. With dead parents to boot. (That was the sort of inappropriate thought that only passed through his mind in times of great distress.)

"I don't… Are you sure this is a good idea?" Dean questioned, because he could only imagine how he would react if _he_ woke up one morning and _Castiel_ was gone. Except, that was kind of what this was like…

"Yes," Mrs Novak said impatiently, "I'll hook you up with a hotel until you can find a place, and I'll give you two months worth of pay for the inconvenience."

Dean didn't want a hotel; he had his apartment. He didn't want two months worth of pay; he had a ton of money saved up.

He wanted Cas.

He thought there would be more time.

_There's always more time, until there's not._

"Well, chop, chop! Better get a move on, Derek!"

Mrs Novak trotted to her suitcase and picked it up, before disappearing downstairs.

Dean ran a hand over his face and scrunched his eyes closed.

He and Cas didn't even get to spend one last night together.

Castiel was hiding out in his room, and Dean was giving him space, and now…

Maybe Mrs Novak was right. Maybe Castiel did want --  _need_  -- independence. Maybe it would be good for Dean to disappear into the night, no goodbyes, no nothing.

Mother knows best, and all that jazz, right?

Dean took a deep breath and turned his eyes upwards to the ceiling. Just above him, Castiel was asleep, unknowing.

Dean would want to know.

He would want to know, wouldn't he? Or maybe… Maybe it was like a bandaid. Just rip it off.

Okay, that was a shitty simile. Or was it a metaphor? Analogy? It didn't matter, because _this was it._

Castiel had twisted and turned his life around in the most incredible, fortunate, peculiar ways and they were both walking away with nothing to show for it.

This was the bitter end that all things came to.

Dean hoisted himself off the lounge and walked to his bedroom slowly, taking in his surroundings.

Sure, it was a very nice apartment, but it was kind of cold and lifeless… Except when Castiel was around. Castiel brought life to the apartment…

Fuck, since when was an apartment a metaphor for Dean? Jesus.

He set his duffle on his bed and stared at it for a long minute, his brain finally kicking into gear as he realized what this actually meant.

Maybe… Maybe this wasn't the end.

Maybe this was just the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a shocker of a day, so I decided to write when I got home, and even though I always knew this was the way the story was gonna go, it still made me incredibly sad and I kind of feel infinitely worse. The next (and final) chapter will probably be longer still*, because there's obviously some issues that need to be addressed. 
> 
> *Don't quote me, though, by now you are probably be aware that I can be a little unreliable. Sorry!


	23. A Change in Age

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter; here we go!!  
> (Feel free to skip ahead to the **NOW** )

**THEN**

_Carry on, my wayward son,_  
_There'll be peace when you are done,_  
_Lay your weary head to rest,  
Don't you cry no more. _

Castiel was spending one last day with his nanny of most of his life, Anna. They go to the duck pond, not only for the sake of tradition, but because Castiel still loves it. After she left, his parents arrived home to inform him they'd found a male nanny to replace her.

Dean Winchester is said male nanny. Upon meeting the pair find themselves on less than amicable terms, however due to Dean's charm and belligerence, the pair from a rocky friendship.

After a brief stint in the nude, Dean earns Castiel's trust when he saves him from unwanted advances at a drunken party.

The boys grow closer through playful banter, sarcasm, and a mutual fondness of good food and music.

Castiel becomes a godfather to Anna's twins, and Castiel wonders if this thing with Dean is only temporary, because everyone leaves him. Dean reassures him that he isn't going anywhere and there are tiny, teensy little hints at something more. Of course, the boys are clueless.

Halloween comes and Dean finds himself skipping out on a party to chill with Cas, who scares himself by watching _The Shining_. Halloween is the first time Dean and Cas share a bed. Also, Dean teaches Castiel how to cook, a little.

When Castiel's parents announce they're spending Thanksgiving in Peru, Dean rallies the troops (Anna, Michael, and their twins, and Sam).

Sam, after watching the pair's interaction, concludes Dean and Cas are in a relationship and confronts Castiel, saying that it's okay. Castiel laughs in his face because what the heck?

The Christmas season arrives, and with it a surly attitude from Castiel. Dean realizes that Cas missed out on nearly as much as he did during his childhood, and makes up for it by buying him a pet cat.

The pair spend Christmas Eve and Day watching movies, eating, and napping. They also go to the duck pond at Castiel's insistence.

Boxing Day arrives, with it Castiel's parents, and death.

The week between Boxing Day and New Years is tense for Castiel and Dean, and things come to a head on NYE. Dean leaves Cas for some down time, Castiel pulls his shit together, and begs for forgiveness when Dean comes home.

They sleep in Castiel's bed, together. When Dean wakes up, Castiel is alert, but by no means awake, and it suddenly hits Dean like a ton of bricks -- he has feelings for Castiel. Dean sleeps with a random guy to try and shake the feelings off; to no avail.

Then, after some soul searching, Castiel comes out to Dean.

Sam shows up as a surprise for Dean's birthday, and Dean somehow accidentally admits his feelings for Castiel to his brother.

After that, things are kind of weird because Castiel has realized that he has feelings for Dean.

Dean and Cas go out for dinner and are mistaken by the waitress as a couple. Dean goes along with it, and the pair end up on a fake date that's not so different from when they usually hang out, and it screws with the both of them.

After the fake date, Dean seeks counsel from Jo, but after Sam is dragged into it, he's just grumpy.

The boys flirt harder than ever and things are said that make it seem like their feelings are reciprocated, but both of them have to many doubts and concerns to bring it up.

They spend the evening of Valentine's Day together, and things are said that basically verify that they're in love with each other.

Castiel finally gets up the courage to broach the topic with Dean, but never gets around to it because he's late for school. Dean is pretty sure that's what Cas wanted to talk about, and tells him so that evening, after hours of Castiel hiding in his room. Dean, in as many words as he can manage, implies to Castiel that he feels the same way.

They spend the rest of the evening apart, but not due to awkwardness or anything of the like, simply because they've got thoughts and emotions to sift through.

After Castiel falls asleep, Mrs Novak shows up and tells Dean he is no longer needed.

Dean, of course, panics, thinking that he's going to lose Castiel, who is upstairs, fast asleep, with no idea that tomorrow morning, he'll wake up to find Dean long gone.

_Don't you cry no more._

**NOW**

Castiel glared at the canopy above his bed, absently scratching Dutchess.

It was relatively late in the morning, and he could usually hear Dean putting about downstairs by now. In fact, he was surprised Dean hadn't shown up to wake him.

Maybe he didn't have any right to be surprised, though, Dean probably thought it best to stay away.

Castiel sighed, knowing that he had fucked up once more.

He should have told Dean in the cab.

Or after school, he should have told him.

Or when Dean had brought him dinner, and had looked at him with pleading eyes, and had come as close to begging as he could get.

He should have told Dean that he loved him, especially after Dean said that it was okay, that he felt the same way.

Not that he'd specifically said that, but Castiel new what he meant. He could read Dean like a book by now, and even though he'd doubted Dean's feelings to start with, there was no doubt left in his mind.

He heard stirring downstairs and decided that the time was now; he'd already put it off for too long. If he were less of a coward, he would've had it said a dozen times by this hour the day before.

He padded down the stairs, his heart leaping erratically, ready to lay everything on the line once and for all, only it wasn't Dean in the kitchen.

"Mother?" He frowned, watching his silk pajama clad mother preparing coffee for herself, and only herself.

"Surprise!" She beamed at him, well, her version of beaming, which was kind of more like grimacing, after all the surgery and whatnot.

"I, uh, I didn't expect to see you," _ever again,_ he added in his mind, wondering when she got in and if Dean knew she was here. Fuck, he couldn't tell Dean he loved him if his mother was here!

"That's why it's a surprise, Castiel," she said primly, pouring the hot water into her cup. "Happy birthday, my grown up boy!"

"My birthday--"

"I know, I know, it's next week, but I have to be in Japan then, so I'm here to celebrate now!"

"Really, you shouldn't have," Castiel muttered sincerely.

"I know, but I couldn't help myself," she sipped her coffee and surveyed Castiel.

"I mean," he continued, "not that it's not nice to see you and all, but me and Dean were just gonna hang out. My birthday isn't a huge deal or anything."

He and Dean hadn't actually discussed his birthday, but after years of disappointment, Castiel was hoping to avoid it as much as possible. If things went the way he wanted once Dean got up and his mother pissed off, maybe he could score some birthday sex.

"Ah, Dean," his mother smiled secretively. "I think you'll have to find someone new to hang out with for your birthday."

"What? Why?" Castiel demanded, a bad feeling settling in his gut.

"Surprise!" His mother exclaimed again and, yep, bad feeling confirmed.

"What did you do?" He whispered, unsure he wanted to hear the answer.

"You, my darling boy, are almost officially an adult, and adults don't need caregivers, or nannies! I let Dean go!" Mrs Novak said, clearly impressed with herself.

Castiel took a minute to process this. Okay, it wasn't so bad. In fact, it was probably a good thing. Dean was no longer Castiel's primary caregiver, which meant that a relationship could be pursued without persecution; if that was something Dean was interested in. Castiel caught the end of what his mother was saying, which effectively dampened -- no, fucking completely saturated -- his little spark of hope.

"-- So he's long gone! No need to worry about pesky goodbyes, I know that you didn't like him very much, so I made it easier for you. Now you don't have to pretend!"

"He-he's already gone?" Castiel asked. "He didn't… He didn't say goodbye."

"Well, if you were listening, you'd realize that was the point, darling," his mother stated, but Castiel ignored her.

He'd read it wrong; surely he had. Why else would Dean up and leave in the middle of the night?

What if… Oh, god, what if Dean had called his mother to come back because he couldn't deal with Castiel anymore? And he'd asked Cas' mom to spin some BS story to make Castiel feel like it was a blessing Dean was gone?

He pinched his nose and clapped his hand over his mouth, forcing himself to take deep, slow breaths so that he didn't panic and hyperventilate.

"Castiel? What's the matter?"

Castiel waited for his breathing to even out before answering his mother. "I'm fine. I'm okay. How long did you say you're staying?"

"Until Tuesday," she replied, looking faintly concerned. If it were Dean, he would have had Castiel in his arms in an instant, coaching his breathing, as pathetic as that made Castiel seem.

"Oh, wow. That's a really long time. You know, I'm okay; a big adult like you said. If you wanted to leave for Japan earlier, or make a stop on the way, I'd be okay with that. Promise," he offered, trying to put something other than hurt and bitterness into his voice.

"Really?" She asked, but he could already see her eyes glazing over as she re-routed her schedule.

"Of course."

His mother didn't bother replying as she grabbed her mug and took off downstairs, leaving Castiel to collapse onto the ground, folding his legs underneath him on the harsh tile, his elbows resting on his knees, his head resting in his hands.

He'd read it so fucking wrong.

Or maybe he'd left it too long, and Dean was sick of waiting.

Either way, he'd never, _ever_ thought Dean would be the type to sneak off without saying goodbye.

God, Dean had become his entire fucking world, and in the space of a few hours, he'd disappeared.

He wanted to shout at Dean, demand to know why he left without saying goodbye.

Maybe he could; he'd been to Dean's apartment once before… But that was so long ago, and at the time he hadn't cared enough to pay attention to where they were going.

He could go to Jo's and demand… Something?

God, no.

Dean didn't even have a cell phone, so he hadn't even left a number for Castiel.

He obviously wanted to drop right off Castiel's radar.

He didn't want Castiel.

Castiel rubbed his eyes harshly, forcing back tears.

How could he be so stupid? Dean was a god among men and he… He was a dumb teenage kid. Of course Dean wouldn't want him.

He thanks his rude, cruel, unlucky stars that it was a Saturday and he could go back to bed instead of school with all of those annoying, gawky teenagers, any of whom he _should have_ fallen in love with.

He dragged himself upstairs and threw himself onto his bed, burying his face in the pillow.

He was seriously not going to see Dean ever again, was he?

* * *

His mother left for Who-The-Fuck-Even-Cares-Anymore on Sunday morning, but it didn't matter. Castiel was still surprised that she'd remembered his birthday and shown up at all.

He didn't go to school on Monday, or Tuesday, or Wednesday. Dean wasn't here to wake him up or make him breakfast, while shooting him those looks that apparently meant nothing all along.

He'd gone to bed on Wednesday night (well, he turned the lights off and decided to sleep; it wasn't like he'd spent much time out of bed) with a vague promise to go to school on Thursday, but when it dawned gray and cold, he couldn't find an ounce of motivation.

He missed Dean. God, did he miss Dean.

Since he hadn't heard from Dean at all, he assumed the older man didn't feel the same.

 _Six months,_ he though bitterly. _Six whole months, and Dean disappears without a word._

 _I ain't going nowhere,_ Dean had said. He'd promised to stick around!

Castiel had thought, hoped, that if Dean wasn't going to stick around as his nanny, he'd stick around as something more, something better. He was obviously completely fucking wrong, which, y'know, surprise, surprise. Little Cas left alone, _again._

He hadn't left the house since -- god, he couldn't even remember. The food that didn't require effort to prepare for consumption was getting dangerously low, despite his general lack of appetite, and when he looked at himself in the mirror he was paler than usual.

He knew he was being pathetic, but isn't that how first heartbreaks are meant to go?

Friday was warm and sunny, but he managed to find an excuse not to go to school. He spent the day pointedly not thinking about his birthday, which was on the Saturday.

He woke on Saturday to the phone ringing. He forgot his troubles for a moment, waiting for Dean to answer the phone, but when the noise didn't stop, he remembered that aside from Dutchess (who was less than impressed by his lack of attentiveness over the past week) he was all alone, and answered the phone, only because he hoped -- yes, he could admit to himself that he really fucking hoped -- it was Dean.

"'Lo?"

"Happy birthday, Kitty-Cas!" Anna trilled over the phone. Castiel immediately felt bad; it had been so long since he'd seen her. He'd sent presents for his god-children's first Christmas, at the very least.

"Thanks Anna-Banana," he mumbled, less than enthusiastically, but thankfully Anna took it for his being tired.

"Party too hard last night, eh?" She chuckled.

"Sure," he replied.

"I trust Dean will look after you, then. How is he?" He could hear the smile in her voice and his insides clenched, and he had to swallow around the lump in his throat before he could talk again.

"F-fine," he said unsteadily.

"Oh, Cassie, you really don't sound good. I better let you go, I'm sure Dean's cooking up a hangover cure. Have a wonderful day, Mr Adult!"

"Thanks Anna," he said, and he really was thankful, on some deep level he couldn't quite find at this stage during his self pity.

He hung the phone up and looked out of the glass wall to the city. The park was just visible through the tall buildings.

Damnit, today was his birthday, and he was eighteen years old, and if Dean Winchester didn't want him, well, at least the ducks at the pond did!

Well, they wanted his bread, but whatever.

He'd deliver.

Today was going to be the day he left the house once more because it was his birthday and he wasn't going to sit around pining over Dean Winchester one minute longer! He was going to feed the ducks.

He nodded to himself and gently patted Dutchess, who wasn't really talking to him, but still likes sharing body warmth of a night.

He clambered out of bed, showered and shaved and dressed. He grabbed his wallet and made his way out of the apartment.

During the walk to the park he stopped at a bakery and bought a loaf of bread and a cupcake for himself. He didn't have anyone to share a regular birthday cake with, and he wasn't going to be that guy that ate a cake all by himself, even if he'd wanted to go at one and a tub of ice cream many times over the last week -- but not pie. Never pie.

He sat on the bench once he got to the park, deciding to take his time feeding the ducks today because they were the first live contact he'd had with anything outside of his home in a week.

He tossed small chunks of bread, piece by piece, until dozens of ducks were gathered around him.

He was halfway through the loaf of bread -- and hadn't even thought about Dean in a while -- when a bunch of the ducks flew away, and the braver ones just hurriedly waddled back a bit, making way for the newcomer with the loud footsteps approaching Castiel from behind.

Castiel couldn't care less about whoever was approaching, only that they'd scared some of the ducks away. He chose to ignore whoever it was and continue tossing bread so maybe the ducks would come closer again.

"Thought I'd find you here," a gruff voice came from directly behind Castiel. His stomach dropped, his head spun, and his eyes snapped shut.

 _Why?_ Why in the name of the supposed ever loving god was Dean Winchster standing behind him at the duck pond after disappearing in the middle of the night followed by a week of radio silence?

"Heya, Cas," Dean said, and Castiel jerked away as Dean's hand touched the back of his neck.

He violently tore of a chunk of bread and threw it bitterly at the ground near the ducks. _Why, why why?_

Dean moved around the park bench and sat down next to him, and Castiel felt his green eyes on him.

It was all he could do to not throw himself at Dean and beg forgiveness for a sin he wasn't sure he actually committed.

"So, uh, happy birthday," Dean said quietly after a tense silence in which Castiel ignored him and continued throwing bread to the ducks with a little more force than necessary.

"Hap--" Castiel cut himself off, biting his tongue. He wasn't going to bite at whatever bait Dean was setting.

He noticed Dean fiddling with that strange amulet he always wore -- how had he never asked about it? There were so many things Castiel never bothered to find out -- and focused his attention on the birds.

"Please look at me, Cas," Dean said in a small voice after about five minutes of nothing other than the noises from the ducks.

Castiel tried to remain impassive as he looked at Dean, but judging by the other man's flinch, he didn't manage it very well.

Castiel watched for a moment as Dean floundered, before the man cleared his through and nodded to himself.

"Well," Castiel huffed, tossing the final bit of bread to the white duck that had been hanging out in the back during the chaos, "I guess you're not gonna say anything. I'm outta here," he grabbed the paper bag with his cupcake and stood, but Dean caught his arm, and fuck if his touch didn't still send warmth through Cas.

"You know I'm no good with words, Cas," Dean said apologetically.

"You only needed to say one word!" Castiel turned around, glaring at Dean. "One word, two syllables, not a great deal of meaning unless you want it to have meaning! I thought I at least deserved a goodbye, if not an explanation!

"I hated you, Dean! I hated you, and then you made me care for you, you me _love_ you, and then you left!" Castiel blinked hard, not allowing himself to cry. "You just left, and you didn't even say goodbye!"

"I thought… I thought it would be easier," Dean explained, and hastened to continue when he correctly assumed Castiel was about to interrupt. "It wasn't a goodbye. It was never a goodbye. I just wanted -- I wanted to wait until today, until you were eighteen. Then it wouldn't make a difference either way.

"I wanted… I couldn't spend a whole week with you knowing you were no longer my responsibility, not when I still had the moral obligation. I mean, obviously, I still do, but…" Castiel watched as Dean rolled his bottom lip between his teeth and tore his eyes away from Cas' for the first time during his little speech.

Dean suddenly stood, placing himself right in front of Castiel and gently resting his hands on Castiel's upper arms. "I love you, Castiel. I've loved you for longer than I even realized, and I thought if we waited just one more week… I should have -- I know I should have said something, I'm sorry. Your mom didn't want me to -- she wanted it to be a surprise. I tried to talk her out of it."

Castiel looked into Dean's sad green eyes and knew he was telling the truth, and he knew that on some level Dean was right, but still, "You… You're a complete assbutt!" Castiel huffed, dropping his gaze to his shoes.

"I know," he heard Dean chuckle, and he looked up again.

"You -- a _whole week!_ And not a word! Dean, I --"

"I know. And I'm sorry, Cas, I really am. But I know that you understand why I did it," Dean said, gently grabbing Castiel's chin with his thumb and forefinger and tipping his face up so that Castiel was looking at him again. "I hated leaving you like that, I really did. Especially after… Everything."

"Dean," Castiel sighed, shrugging Dean off, "I just… Not even a message. You could've just said _'don't worry, see you Saturday,'_ or anything! Instead I've spent the last week second guessing every moment we've spent together, not just since the start of the year but since we met!"

"I know, I know," Dean said calmly, and damn if it didn't calm Cas down too. "Remember what I said? I ain't going anywhere. Not unless you want me to. And correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think you want me to go, do you, Cas?"

"No," Cas whispered, staring up at Dean, "I don't."

"Right," Dean grinned a soft smile.

"I just… It was always bothering me… I don't quite understand," Castiel said hesitantly.

"What's that, baby?" Dean asked, and Castiel, so help him, shivered at the term of endearment.

"I don't know how you fell in love with me," Castiel admitted. "Falling in love with you was as easy as falling asleep. I think it began from the moment I met you, even if I thought I hated you."

"I fell in love with you because you feed the ducks," Dean said, looking at Castiel intently, "I fell in love with you because you always watch the ground when you walk because you're afraid you'll trip. I fell in love with you because you run your fingers through your hair when you're nervous, or you're lying.

"I fell in love with you because when I first met you, you were a sassy little shit who had your heart set on hating me, but showed your real self sooner than I thought possible, sooner than I did. I fell in love with you for all of those reasons, but I only realized it because you woke up hard against me," Dean chuckled, and Castiel felt himself blush and buried his face in Dean's shoulder.

Dean's arms immediately came up to wrap around him and pull him closer. Castiel quickly returned the gesture.

"I love you too, you assbutt," he reiterated, before pulling away to look up at Dean -- he hadn't seen the handsome man in a week, after all.

"C-can I kiss you, Cas?" Dean asked softly.

"Oh," Castiel hesitated, and Dean immediately backtracked.

"Shit, sorry, forget I said that. We can go as slow as you want, I know I kinda lost your trust and I --"

Castiel shut him up by pressing his lips against Dean's. He had no skill, no practice after all, but he could feel Dean smiling.

"I… Sorry," Castiel mumbled, "I don't know why, but that question kinda caught me off guard."

"Don't apologize," Dean told him, resting his forehead against Castiel's. "God, Sammy's gonna wet his pants," Dean groaned, and Castiel laughed. Dean was probably right, he had a feeling Sam had been rooting for them since the very beginning.

"Mom's gonna flip," Castiel teased, and Dean groaned again.

"Oh, no, we are not telling your mother!"

"It's not like she'll remember who you are," Castiel said fairly, but Dean shook his head adamantly.

After a moment, they stepped away from each other, but Dean slid his hand into Castiel's free hand, the cupcake slightly squished but still in his other hand.

"How's this gonna work, Dean?" Castiel asked seriously as they made their way through the park. He felt Dean shrug beside him.

"We'll figure it out," Dean said confidently. "It's what we do. You and me, Cas."

"You and me," Castiel repeated, his mouth twisting into a smile. Castiel remembered how, even when they weren't actually dating, they were practically dating. This wasn't going to be that big of a change, after all. "We'll be just fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welpy-woop, that's a wrap. SORRY IF THAT WAS ANTICLIMACTIC. My biggest, longest and (obviously) most recent project has come to an end. This is most likely the last of the verse, never say never, though. It's definitely the last of this story, because I feel as though it's gone on long enough and there are a million and one ways I can screw up the actual relationship so it doesn't do their friendship justice. I really hope you enjoyed reading it, I had a lot of fun writing it and it was a wonderful distraction. Thanks to everyone who left kudos and comments, especially the few who left the sweetest comments on just about every chapter! But, yeah, keep 'em coming, I love the feedback. How else am I meant to know what you guys think works/doesn't work? Like I said, this has been my biggest project to date, and knowing me I'm going to have a new one in eight or so hours.  
> I'm actually quite sad it's over, but it had to end eventually.  
> In a couple of days, when I've forgotten the story in its entirety, I'll go through and edit it again. I noticed a few mistakes tonight, but I seriously cbf right now, I just wanted to get this last bit up so I can concentrate on assessments and stuff.
> 
> Anyway, if you're reading this, it's likely that you read the story, and for that: I love you! :)


End file.
